Before the music finds a way to end
I hope these faithless fears would take a break;
I hope I’d choose to give more than I take
I hope to trust the present as a friend.
Before I tell a dream it’s time to rise
I hope its vision binds me in some way;
I hope to nourish it throughout the day
Until I find its truth in someone’s eyes.
Before my rhythmic breathing has to slow
I want to say I tried each given task;
I want to feel I hid behind no mask
Preventing any miracle to show;
And if my bucket’s empty when I’m done
I hope you won’t reject an emptied one.
Linked to dVerse Meeting the Bar hosted by Victoria C. Slotto with prompt to write a list poem.
Photo: “Yellow, White, Red and Green” by the author. Flowers on display at the Chicago Botanic Garden.
Thoughts will echo, bounce and shout
Like whispers haunt a cave,
Like cryptic nonsense thrown about.
I caught some I might save.
If thoughts would knock and say they’re true,
I’d welcome them today,
But does it matter what I do?
They’ve entered anyway.
Linked to dVerse Quadrille Monday hosted by De Jackson, aka WhimsyGizmo, with prompt word, “echo”.
Photo: “Open Door” by the author. The scene is a garden gate at the Chicago Botanic Garden.
Since my mind isn’t frightfully clear,
And I listen to less than I hear,
And this limerick’s got
Nary reason nor plot,
If I post it will it disappear?
Linked to dVerse where I am hosting today and the prompt is to write a limerick.
Photo: “I Wish My Mind Were Clear Like That” by the author
Although liberty dies
There’s a Moon that will rise
Casting moonlight below.
Oldish dreams fail to grow.
Patient stars ever will
Turn around but look still.
Evening Sun creeps to set.
We’ll eventually get
Some new day some may see
Although maybe not me.
Linked to dVerse Quadrille hosted by Grace with prompt “still”.
Linked to NaPoWriMo2017 Day Twenty-Four.
Photo: “Still and Patient” by the author
They’re commonplace, lovers’ eyes,
And take us deep where rhythms rise
To sanity, a holy place,
Re-syncing hearts to true surprise.
Odd theories claim the human race
Has selfish eyes and lacks all grace.
Such idols have no depth to see
Beyond the surface of a face.
But everywhere there’s mystery
Much deeper than it needs to be
And deeper than a smallish brain
Since love does not move mindlessly.
Those in love should not complain.
The Lover’s backing all love’s pain
And joy as every lover tries
To hold what’s real without the lies.
Linked to Poets United hosted by Susan asking the question “What is holiness?”
Linked to dVerse Open Link Night hosted by Grace.
Linked to NaPoWriMo2017 Day Twenty.
Photo: “Daffodils” by the author
They live free from lust and fear and anger.¹
I waste resources taking precautions against what I fear and nothing happens. It is what I don’t anticipate that messes me up. For example, while walking Fred that half mile we usually take through the forest I stay within view of the path so I won’t get lost. I don’t think about the problems Fred has been having with those chickens whom I allow to range freely near the cabin and who torment him chained to his doghouse. So when I unchain Fred, out of kindness, because we are buddies and all, and I see him turn back up the path briefly looking at me with scorn, I realize that I’m an idiot.
By the time I get back, Fred’s anger resolved his chicken problem. He is gnawing on one of them when he sees me and begins part two of his plan for domination. He rushes into the cabin defending his castle growling and baring his teeth. At this point I guess I felt fear, but mainly it was anger which is what fear turns into when it doesn’t care any more. I kneel down bracing for his charge with the chain in one hand and the forefinger of my other hand touching the floor beside me, “Get your ass over here.”
Fred is smarter than most animals I’ve met including myself. He bowed his head and submissively accepted the chain.
follow forrest trail
trees prepare for new spring growth
winter dying’s past
Linked to dVerse Haibun Monday hosted by Toni Spencer with the topic fear.
¹A quote about fear is required. Mine comes from the Bhagavad Gita, Eknath Easwaran translator.
Linked to NaPoWriMo2017 Day Seventeen.
Photo: “V” by the author
This simple story that is theirs to tell
Is older than the darkness of the night
And truer than the Sun’s new morning light
And deeper than the deepest magic spell.
Between them stood tall mountains none would cross,
A river that ran rapids through their dreams,
A forest that lay dense where one rose beamed
And warned them they could suffer every loss.
They followed Love no matter how they’d fall.
Then mountains bowed to open up the sky.
The river calmed. The forest lifted high.
What fear they felt they now could not recall.
Their tears took root, went deep. They understood
That darkness charmed by light transforms to good.
Linked to dVerse Meeting the Bar: Pop Sonnets hosted by Kim of Writing in North Norfolk with the prompt to convert a pop song into a sonnet. I am not supposed to tell you which pop song I selected.
Linked to NaPoWriMo2017 Day Thirteen.
Photo: “Watching the Light” by the author