I wake, and does it seem a normal day?
Yet dazzling moments need not be in lack.
Let gratitude and open eyes allay
All fears of scarcity which hide in back
Of mind; let little, happy moments stack:
Begin with sunlight streaming through this pane
Of glass, and greenery in stark terrain.
Life is hardly ever ideal, but it can always be good.
— one of my happy thoughts from yesterday
Yesterday was not an ideal day, and I didn’t even post for JusJoJan (although now I’m using the word). However, there were several aspects to be happy about, and by the end of the day, I felt very loved. Fun fact: I only wrote 2, very cruddy poems yesterday, but today I have 5 1/2 already.
Today I decided to share a short and sweet Chaucerian stanza that I wrote the other day.
Through sun and rain, it is a shining day
Because of all the jewels unearthed therein,
Smell petrichor, and see the rainbow ray
Even when some colors remain hidden.
Joy is not binary, all loss or win.
Give thanks to God the Father through the Son,
Perhaps not for all things, but through each one.
I am both happy and sad, Bored out of my mind and excited: Writing makes me come alive And explore this constellation of emotions, Hoping that in the darkness that is Sure to come this year, I can see the stars and connect the dots To recognize a bigger picture.
Something to be proud of
As the world begins something brand-new
A new job
The world sees as little,
But gives me and others happiness
I am hoping to be
Put back together somehow better
Linda is hosting JusJoJan again this year — thank you, Linda! The prompt word is “resolution.” I don’t have any resolutions, other than to participate in JusJoJan, i.e. to post every day in January.
This poem was written this morning after reading some encouragement from a friend. I had been feeling down on myself because I didn’t get as far as I wanted to get in 2022. She reminded me that even “little progress” is “something to be proud of.”
It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to be sad and happy at the same time. It’s okay to have your heart hurting while another’s is bursting with joy.
I’m writing this for a friend. That friend is me. That friend would probably want to die, if not for the psychiatric meds that keep her alive. The only present she wants is love and to feel special, but that can’t be bought or fit under the tree. She wants to be worth a diamond ring to somebody.
Her heart hurts, when she wishes she was happy, and that has to be okay.
This week’s Cosmic Photo Challenge is “The Best of 2022.” I’m torn between having another existential crisis at the passage of this year and being at peace with it. In any case, I’ll celebrate the good times. 🙂