One Step

Confusing is the path one ought to take,
So full of twists and turns it’s hard to stand:
Stand by; and soon enough the path will make
More sense, next steps elucidated, and
Courage nearby to take the trembling hand.
One step ahead is all that might be shown,
But difficulties won’t be faced alone.

Grand Plans Beaten to a Pulp

Once again, I have a response to Linda Kruschke’s paint-chip poetry, at the last minute. This is about how, this year, I had a bunch of plans and it’s all down the drain now. 🙂 I am also sharing this with MLMM’s Tale Weaver, because any attempt to plan this year has become an epic fail. Without furthr ado, these are our paint-chips:

January 2020: the year was a
Blank canvas of optimistic possibility,
A green flash to signal, “Go for it.”

March 2020: a rainstorm was brewing,
We began to become tongue-tied,
Under the sea of shocking surprises.

September 2020: somehow we have
Tumbleweeded through a surreal summer,
Crispy leaves and autumn colors are coming.

I am a glass of fresh-squeezed
Orange juice, filled with the pulp
Of pressurized emotions, in my skin.

Fighting Against Pessimism With A Pen

This is for Ronovan’s décima challenge, a bit too late, but I figured this week, better late than never. 🙂 We are supposed to use the word FALL in the B rhyme spot. By the way, this is almost totally unedited because I really wanted to get it done tonight, so your comments are appreciated.


Life’s not like fairy tales we pen,
Only one it is like at all:
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall
And could not be put right again.

Pessimism’s tempting, often.
Nevertheless, I hope to write
A story a little more bright,
Even in some uncertain days —
Reality all hope betrays,
But other ends are in dream-sight.

Ronovan Writes Decima Challenge Image

Blue Sky

For DVerse quadrille today, De says “the sky’s the limit!” This is also linked to FOWC: Doleful. The sky where I am today is far from doleful. 🙂 It’s a welcome change from a week or two ago.


Looking out the front window, I see sun:
The season’s listing toward September,
And the sky’s no longer filled with embers
And ashes.
Sometimes reality crashes
Into my saccharine reveries, frowns
Find my face, but blue is not doleful
Above, in that heavenly place.

Paths

This is short and simple, but I decided to share my response to FFFC #83 with the Writers’ Pantry. I tried to write something hopeful / whimsical to combat these “ominous times.” 

This is quite a magical place:
Green grass, several paths, blue sky.
Untold adventures to embrace,
As clouds are sailing way up high.

Beautiful As Antique Brass

This is for Linda Kruschke’s paint-chip poetry #37, where she gives us a few prompt words and a theme. The theme this week is “When I’m old.” Update: I am also linking with DVerse OLN.


When I am old, may I be
Beautiful, as antique brass.
May life still be
Fresh as the wild huckleberries
Which grow under the
Wide, Montana sky,
The state where my grandparents live.
May the turbulence which comes
From storms of cumulonimbus clouds
Provide rain and light, to make
The ground on which I plant my life
Verdant; and if
The grass is greener in the past
Remember: yellow is
The color of happiness, and candlelight.

Exaltation

It’s late, but I haven’t posted today. I have written a lot about today’s feast day in the Roman Catholic Church, the Exaltation of the Holy Cross. For more information, click here. This is just one of the poems inspired by that today.


Save us through Your cross, O Lord,
Toss aside our sins,
With the Spirit in our hearts
Renewal begins.
All expected facts reversed,
A curse made glorious:
Died but then risen again,
Jesus, victorious!
Splinters from this painful tree
Lead to healing, making free.

Burning

For this week’s Weekly Scribblings, we are to write inspired by the phrase “A phoenix must first burn.” I wasn’t in the mood to write anything triumphant, so this cherita is where my brain took me this evening.


I don’t want to hear about the phoenix anymore.

No more rising from the ashes anymore,
Who made me a mythical firebird?

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust you shall return —
I don’t mind whether there’s a rising,
At this point solely stop the burning.

When I Think Of Future Plans….

A haibun inspired by Frank’s challenge about crickets, and the last FDDA, about plans for September. I will miss FDDA, but I’m always grateful for FOWC. I’ve also been trying to respond to other prompts, but this is the best one that I wrote today.


Tomorrow begins September. There are no particular plans, but I hope for more time with friends and being able to actually enter the church again. There were no plans for August, either, other than my friends’ live-streamed wedding on the 1st, but the month was better than expected. I’ll take September one day at a time. Too much thinking and I’ll start sinking in anxieties. As always, I’ll be hunting for the silver lining.

in silence a sound:
August chirping a goodbye —
crickets out of sight