A second poem for today: a response to paint-chip poetry #16.

No wishing well will make the future less foggy —
Harbor no fear, however, for power and mercy
Fall like Niagara, into the Grand-Canyon-esque
Depths of sin and pain and misery.

This moment is a dew-drop on the flower
Of your parched, yet living, new beginning.
This moment has the aura of a sacred journey:
An antique rose becomes fragrant with divine charity.


I enjoy writing triolets, and that happens to be the official prompt for day 12. This poem is about how, sometimes, it takes some work to actively trust and not despair. I am glad that my hope is in God and not in my own hope!

When demons snarl and prowl about
I trust in God and shall not fear.
May stronger faith arise from doubt
When demons snarl and prowl about.
I really hope my hope holds out
Until the Son of God appear.
When demons snarl and prowl about
I trust in Him and shall not fear.

Mary Magdalene

I am sharing my day 12 poem with the Writers’ Pantry. This was inspired by the fact that today is Easter, as well as John 20:11-16. 

When it was still dark,

I went to the tomb.

For even the darkness

Is lighter with you:

You know the darkness too.


I stood there weeping,

With you taken away.

With weeping was praying,

Which you heard — and I turned,

Since you know my name.

A Holy Week Without the Liturgy

Day 10. I  wasn’t going to post this but have not been able to write anything better for Frank’s prompt at DVerse about seven-line poems. 

The virus isolation breaks my heart,

Especially with no Eucharist received

Nor even seen in person — though apart

And with so many others, greatly grieved,

Faith lives in hope — she’s blessed who has believed.

I live-stream watching Mass and Tenebrae, *

Lamenting that they’ve taken Him away.


*Tenebrae is a liturgical service during Holy Week. If you want to know more, click here.

September came cold

This is for NaPoWriMo day 8, and it is actually on prompt! I think it also fits the Weekly Scribblings, but I’m not sure. I wasn’t expecting to be inspired by Twitter feeds, but this quote from the Anne Carson Bot stuck with me:

And for a moment the frailest leaves of life contained him in a widening happiness”
-Anne Carson

September came cold
His body fevered, chilled
The ghost of the wind
Rattled the bones of frail leaves,
Brittle brown coverings on trees’
Branches reaching toward grey sky,
Knowing heaven lies beyond the clouds.

He gazes through a window,
Following the trees’ leading,
He shivers, lips quiver
Upward in a slight smile,
Last breath rattles his bones
The ghost is loud.


I’m back with another poem today, combining DVerse Poetics and FOWC: Contrite.

Some people say this virus is a chastisement,
This plague a way for God to shake us
Out of our apathetic egocentric days,
Its purpose to turn us back to God
With contrite hearts.

I don’t know but hope we learn before
The next one starts.

At Cana

For the third day of NaPoWriMo, I wrote this “Magic 9” poem, so called because each line is 9 syllables, and the rhyme scheme is abacadaba. This poem fits the official NaPoWriMo prompt, too! 

“Fill the jars with water,” Jesus said,

Although it may not have made much sense

Since what put the wedding hosts in dread

Was lack of wine ; yet the servants did

What Jesus requested. Mary read

The situation, and brought Him in.

Following Jesus’ instructions led

To a miracle, huge recompense —

He also provides now daily bread.


My Home Is A Monastery Now

On this first day of NaPoWriMo, I am posting a haibun in response to Frank J. Tassone’s prompt about the virus.

Almost exactly two years before this quarantine started, I spent my spring break visiting a monastery. I was considering the life of a cloistered nun, as I was very attracted to their way of life and prayer.

I loved every minute of that time and even visited again that summer. However, in the end, it was not to be, and I have not pursued it any further.

Now is my new chance to be a cloistered nun.

Black-and-white clad nuns
Flock together in spirit
As bells are tolling


March Coloring

Linked to Linda G. Hill’s coloring club. I’ve colored a few pictures this month, the one below being the most recent one (I finished it about 20 minutes ago 🙂 ). I like this one because I say the Lord’s Prayer every day, yet how many times have I said it without REALLY meaning “Thy will be done?” These last couple of weeks have been an eye-opener because my will is just obliterated, and I am forced to concede, “Okay, Your will be done.” I’m not sure how many of you are having the same kind of experience, but it’s showing me that I still have a ways to go as far as truly being a faithful disciple of Christ.

I didn’t intend to write so much, but anyway, here is my picture!

Coloring 3_28

I See

This haibun-ish poem is written in response to DVerse Poetics “now I can see” prompt. Follow the link for more information and many responses.Note: I wasn’t sure what to write for this prompt, but then my friend bought me coffee beans and left them on the porch with a nice little note.

When the barn has burned down,
oh, you can see the moon!
When the structure has crumbled,
soon, naturally, you can see peace.
When the churches are closed,
you realize more deeply, what
Jesus means by, “I am with you always.”
When we must stay far apart,
we find new ways to share our heart.

morning, a surprise:
friendship grows through coffee gift
outside on the porch