Inspired by Easter Sunday, this is for the décima challenge and for MLMM’s Saturday Mix: Double Take.
Humans did err, got caught in claws
Of death, yet Jesus came, erased
The penalty — He, our faith’s base,
This is our celebration’s cause.
This deserves more than loud applause
But a whole life: God made us heirs
With Christ, all His blessings He shares.
Bass, tenor, alto, soprano
All sing in harmony and show
Even death itself — life which dares.
This décima is for the current challenge from Ronovan Writes. The word “dance” needs to end one of the D lines. This was completely different from my first attempt (which will not be posted 🙂 ), but I am pretty happy with this. I really admire Mary, the mother of Jesus!
After Mary’s “Yes” awaiting
On which humanity’s fate rests,
Relieved, angels have no regrets:
Cherubim and seraphim sing.
Mary’s “Fiat” an offering
Always humble under God’s will,
Immaculate Heart Spirit-filled.
Courageously she joins the dance,
Conscious of the divine romance,
And she loves her decision still.
This is a poem from this exact date 3 years ago, shared again, thanks to Fandango’s “flashback Friday.” I decided to simplify my posting today by reposting an old piece that you may have missed. Even I had forgotten about it. 🙂 The original post is here.
For this week’s Weekly Scribblings at PSU, Rommy prompts us with several lines from the musical “Hamilton.” This brings back a lot of memories because I was really into the musical when it first came out, and certain lines from it really inspired and motivated me at the time. This is not a poem today. This is prose, and this is nonfiction.
“Dying is easy, young man. Living is harder.” That line could be the summary of my life.
Except, dying wasn’t all that easy, either.
With depression as persistent as it is, and the eating disorder which covered it being so dangerously severe, I’m amazed that I did not die. Soon after the musical “Hamilton” came out and my friend introduced me to its songs, I was in an intensive therapy program (again) to help with the eating disorder behaviors and consequences (again). I had heard that anorexia has one of the highest mortality rates of any mental illness, with up to 25% of sufferers dying, especially if they do not receive treatment. Thinking about all of the people I had met during my recovery journey — it was at least 4 dozen. Take 25% of that; that’s how many could have died already, when I was given a second chance and a third chance. Sometimes, I didn’t even want those extra chances, so why did they not go to somebody else?
I had asked myself — still do, in fact — why I got treatment, why I’m still alive at all. Even during that stint in the therapy program, I was inspired by another line from “Hamilton”: “If there’s a reason I’m still alive when so many have died, then I’m willing to wait for it.” Two years later, I revisited my journal from that time, and I was still waiting yet also re-inspired. If I ever find out the reason why God saved me, I am still willing to wait for it.
One thing I am loving today is….the act of creating art. I guess you could call this the “flow state.” This stream-of-consciousness poem is for SOCS: above/below.
Above all, I wanted to just post something today. Yesterday I didn’t post anything and hardly wrote anything, either. Until about 8 p.m., I had only written one poem, and the good news about that is, by the time I went to sleep, I had written another 3 poems in my notebook. Their quality, however, is dubious and most likely below average.This is my second poem of today. Let’s see if I have any luck in following this mysterious and winding stream.
Those days that I love the most
Are the ones when I am least aware
Of my own thoughts. No reason to boast
Or be ashamed, I am simply there.
I am playing music at piano keys,
Or writing poems by hand in ink.
Perhaps I feel not aloft on the breeze,
Neither do I in dark depths sink.
I am spending time in the presence
Of those I love, and Love itself,
My very being exists as intense
Creative force, which is my wealth.
My attempt at a dramatic monologue for Linda Kruschke’s paint-chip poetry prompt this week, also partially inspired by FOWC: Category and JusJoJan for today.
This is another installment of my series (see also here and here) inspired by the picture below. I’m not 100% happy with this, as it’s my first attempt at a Petrarchan sonnet in probably multiple years, but I hope you enjoy it.
Originally, I was planning on only sharing this picture with Linda G. Hill’s coloring club for January, but the picture ended up inspiring two poems. I might even write more in this series, using the same first line as a starting point, in several different poetry forms.
This is for today’s SoCS: Magnet and for this prompt about admiration. I was having trouble getting started on this, but then I listened to this piece of music:
Music as a magnet:
Ears wish to give standing ovations,
Brain is filled with admiration
For the composer’s creativity,
And the vocalists’ beauty —
Sound waves played on repeat
With heavenly beauty replete,
Heart is filled over and over
And never, ever exhausted.
This sonnet was written about 3 weeks ago, shared with DVerse OLN.
The darkness turns to morning, noon to night:
The day is fleeting, fleet-footed and fast,
The sun retreating, sinking out of sight,
Because no single day can for long last.
Remember though: the dark will morning be,
Another day bestows another chance
To see the shining light of verity,
To hear the music yearning for a dance.
Take in refreshing colors of the dawn,
As temperature heats slowly from night’s chill:
It may seem slow, but quickly it is gone,
There is a time to empty and to fill.
The darkness turns, performs a pirouette —
There is a time to follow, and reset.