How lucky am I to wake this bright morning? Safely carried through night's passage. Like steadfast mountains often forgotten. While dreams retreat, my feet find the floor.
Safely carried through night's passage. Joining the color stream of these hours. While dreams retreat, my feet find the floor. River stones are worn smooth with time.
Joining the color stream of these hours. Letting love's current ease my way. River stones are worn smooth with time. Hand in hand is our way forward.
Letting love's current ease my way. Like steadfast mountains often forgotten. Hand in hand is our way forward. How lucky am I to wake this bright morning?
Within the pages she is flying to another world. Between the pages he is trying on a new character. They are finding a way forward through angst, despair wanting to belong. He is reconsidering his past through their eyes. She is listening to his reasons for forgiveness.
Living in another time and place trying on the suits, gear or gowns. Gently turning or furiously flipping to find the next wonder or conclusion.
Is there a safer way to explore than within a story laid out for your eyes to absorb a world that you have never seen?
“I merely wish to point out that in the face of such a world you have only yourselves to rely on. You have only the decision you must make, each of you, alone. And will you contribute to the indifferent forces that ceaselessly conspire toward injustice? Or will you stand up against this endless tide and in the face of it be truly human?” ― David Guterson, Snow Falling on Cedars
This poem was inspired by a prompt from dVerse Poets Pub, and this quote from a book I loved. Come join a welcoming group of poets for Open Link Night.
This is just one of many books on the list of Most Commonly Challenged Books In the U.S. Although I read Snow Falling on Cedars many years ago, I can still remember how it touched my heart and made me think deeply.
This is a photo of a bookstore from one of my trips. Can’t remember where.
This morning I missed seeing the beautiful distraction that you are, that you have always been.
You grinning at the hummingbird in the window. You stomping down the stairs to begin the day rushing in to kiss me on the cheek. You humming while sweeping through the doorway
I missed the generosity of you and now it is Thursday already.
When did I fall so heavily asleep to have lost my noticing?
Join us over at dVerse Poets' Pub for Open Link Night. Link one poem of your choice and have fun reading the poetry of others in this welcoming community. - HERE.
Photo taken in Lisbon, Portugal. I fell in love with the murals there.
Join us over at dVerse Poets' Pub for Open Link Night. Link one poem of your choice and have fun reading the poetry of others in this welcoming community. - HERE.
A big thank you to editor Barbara Leonhard for publishing my poem, And if we did. This poem came from an inquiry about what I assume and the power of sitting with the question, “What am I assuming to be true?” I invite you to visit MasticadoresUsa to read the poem, enjoy the poetry of others, and share your thoughts.
Thank you to the many, many poets who keep our hearts alive during challenging times.
Join in Open Link Night at dVerse Poets’ PubHERE. Share a poem of your choice and meet a friendly community of poets.
Sometimes
the light turns red before we have left the intersection
leaving our tail end vulnerable
sometimes
our brakes don’t work, spinning on black ice with
blurred windows of reaction
sometimes
we must go slowly, inching through the fog in faith
blinded by dense thoughts
sometimes
breakdowns leave us on the rainy roadside
unpacking resourcefulness
sometimes
forgiveness shows up like an invitation
an off-ramp never seen before
sometimes
we just need to stay on the road
grip and steer
This was written in 2019 and still resonates with me today. This driving metaphor definitely places me in a car-centered culture. Each of us is navigating our way through the day. Be kind and assume the best intentions of others.
Join a welcoming group of poets for Open Link Night -dVerse Poets’ Pub HERE.
I took this photo in Lisbon, Spain. Such a fun curve in the street.
She led me to the library, fed stories to my ears taught me how to keep the family blood circulating to pull my shoulders back, stand proud
she showed me laughter around the table camping in cold rain, beauty beyond lipstick the effective use of stubborn determination
she made a million meals without consideration flowered apron ready dinners with a smile Did she even enjoy cooking? I don't remember anyone asking her.
She washed clothes, replacing them in drawers a revolving door of dirty to clean just another behind the scenes devotion.
How much did we notice the way she kept the boat afloat watching for leaks while we slept.
In winter's grasp, we linger, longing for spring's embrace. Does the waiting make arrival all the more precious? A glowing light across the street reminds me of companionship. Within these cold days gathering, we are the light for each other. Together is our way forward toward blooming.
Often wintertide darkness can seem a season too long. I cradle reminders of past flowers, new growth of green wrapped in warm memories of meandering meadows wide. While frost edges my windows in delicate design. In winter's grasp, we linger, longing for spring's embrace.
flashlight batteries - Ali Grimshaw 