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.

Piercing the Heart

This is for Linda G. Hill’s SoCS: Sharp, written in the form of an octelle for today’s Saturday Mix.


Music sharply pierces hearers:
Its strength each human heart avers.
Sharps and flats resound in ears
And minds, bringing men to tears.
Symphony inside the soul,
Beauty makes its journey whole.
Music sharply pierces hearers:
Its strength each human heart avers.

A Flag Planted

This was inspired by MLMM’s Tale Weaver about flags. (Yay, I figured out how to do the hyperlink!) I’m not totally happy with this poem, but it’s the best thing I’ve been able to come up with today. Lately, it seems like writing has gotten more difficult. Tell me what you think. 🙂


Do not cede your territory,
Fight against the enemy,
And try, never to surrender
Nor any white flag fly.
Why be borrower or lender
Of what makes you you uniquely?
Why bend to brusque demands
That you can never satisfy?
Grand is the better life,
Which lies  truthfully in your hands.

IMG_0453

Wanting Rest For You

This is inspired by FOWC: Drain and today’s Weekly Scribblings about rest.


I see it: the way the pain drains you.
You say it with the slightly-labored breathing
And the careful, painstaking way you move.
You say it when a grin shifts into a grimace
And in your reluctance to make many movements.

I love you: saying this with a cup of cold water
And many prayers which you will never hear.
How I wish you could have a restful rest,
Without the flaming, aching joints and muscles
Which are giving a relentless test.

Worth

This is my (late) response to Linda’s paint chip poetry week 34. I meant to respond to it yesterday, but despite this and other prompts, I had few good ideas. It appears my brain is working this morning. 🙂


I promise:

The sweetness of honey,

The sparkle of starlight —

Will not always be

Present: gates may creak

On rusty hinges rather than

Be lavishly bestowed

With lapis lazuli and precious

Stones; hills may be steep

And rocky rather than rolling.

I promise:

The worth of the journey.

Ferocious Optimism

For today’s Weekly Scribblings, we are considering our foundations. I am also sharing this with FOWC: Nothing. Special thanks to Sarah for her beautiful and life-filled poem Walking at the Edge. Although the topic is much different, I read her poem earlier today and was inspired by the life in her poem, and I felt like her poem contained a “ferocious optimism,” hence the title and inspiration for this poem.


Yes:
Every breath means she
Is not drowned underneath
New, bad news arriving daily.

Yes:
Every step means she
Has not allowed depression
To render her inert, bedridden.

Yes:
Every trembling of the Earth she
Wonders if this is the “Big One;”
Somehow there’s still a foundation.

Yes:
Every morning means she
Breathes, steps, and wonders anew
That nothing has beaten her too blue.

Grains of Wheat

For DVerse Poetics today, we are to write inspired by wheat. At first, I was completely at a loss for any inspiration, but tonight I wrote this Chaucerian stanza.


Unless a grain of wheat shall fall upon
The fertile ground and die, a sacrifice,
It remains a single grain; but once gone
It returns, and is now worth well past twice:
Potential on which you can’t put a price.
Does wheat feel trepidation ere the fall?
Is falling in the field falling at all?

The Angelus, Jean-François Millet

To a Sunflower

Shared with the Writers’ Pantry this week. Magaly talks about keeping a sense of hope, and I wrote this even before reading that.


You are slowly opening:
Hope in nature’s bloom,
Showing what it is to wait,
And to give growth room.
Yellow petals reaching out,
Pretty little flower,
Like a set of open hands
With surprising power.
Captivating littleness,
Sowing seeds of your greatness.

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photo taken by me a few days ago

Look!

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Look at all the beauty
At the end of the world:
Carefully walk upon the rocks
And see, one tenacious tree;
Continue along those rocks
Following the mesmerizing moon,
The weakly-glowing, yet beckoning
Orb — the rocky path,
The end of the world,
Becomes a gate to mysterious more.

Thanks to FFFC #74 for the image and inspiration!

Elijah, You Get Me

I was doing the Liturgy of the Hours today, and 1 Kings chapter 19 was the first reading this morning. This isn’t the first time I’ve read this passage, but I’m always grateful for it. Elijah is so relatable. *laughs*

Elijah:
You get me.
You sat under the broom tree
Wishing for the Lord to sweep
Away your life, your misery.
Threats from Jezebel became
Too tough, so you had had enough.
But God didn’t grant that wish.
Good news for the rest of the Testament
I guess, but I’m still
Lying here, Elijah.
Teach me to take courage.

1 Kings 19:3-4 (NIV)

Elijah was afraid and ran for his life. When he came to Beersheba in Judah, he left his servant there, while he himself went a day’s journey into the wilderness. He came to a broom bush, sat down under it and prayed that he might die. “I have had enough, Lord,” he said. “Take my life; I am no better than my ancestors.”