All God’s Creatures Thank Him

Shared with the Writers’ Pantry at PSU. Inspired by one of the psalms that I read this morning. 🙂


The little bird, when it chirps,
Does it speak to its Creator?
Before it carries away crumbs,
Does it thank God for what comes?

The majestic eagle, when it flies,
One higher does it recognize?
Him who gave it talons and wings,
Deserves great praise from all things.

brown and gray bird
Photo by Jean van der Meulen on Pexels.com

If There’s a Reason….

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.

Dizzy

Quickly time passes; seconds run
To minutes, years from hours, days
And on and on it goes, always
Ticking off moments one by one.

At what young age had I begun
To be aware of how it whirls
So dizzily, turning that girl
Into a woman? Barely born
And so soon learning then to mourn —
Yet still rejoicing over pearls.

Continue reading

Careful!

Do you think yourself to be poor?
Based on beauty, or money spent,
Differences are more prominent;
What is in common is much more.

Jealousy’s often misplaced, for
Not every day holds elation:
Behind curated creations,
There’s no one lives without a care.
There’s a condition we all share,
Envy causes isolation.

This is a décima for Ronovan Writes. This week’s word is CARE in the D rhyme spot. Linking with the Writers’ Pantry at Poets and Storytellers United. Happy Sunday!

Ronovan Writes Decima Challenge Image

Sonnet: Dove of Peace

In this post from last week, I shared a picture and 2 poems inspired by it, wondering if I would start a series by reusing some of the lines to write different forms of poetry. Well, here is the next installment of the series: a Shakespearean sonnet (hoping to try a Petrarchian sonnet soon)! Shared with the Writers’ Pantry at Poets and Storytellers United.


The dove of peace brings healing in its wings,
The shining sun comes not so far behind –
A confluence of pinkish hues it beings,
The easier some happiness to find.
The dove of peace reveals itself to men
Although it often seems to’ve been delayed:
It can be shy, and finds its welcome when
True prayers of trust, like little stars arrayed,
Light up the people’s dark thoughts’ sky. Those stars
Provide much comfort when they’re born and rise,
Against despair and woeful words which mar –
With peace past understanding as the prize.
Thenceforth can many faith-filled flowers grow,
No matter which direction the winds blow.

Coloring 1_11