We placed our palms upon the casket’s lid.
He used a marker tracing out a place
Where we could write some parting words. We did
The best we could while scrambling for some grace
To honor with farewell one so well-hid.
What words we wrote no readers need to face.
Eventually our hearts will come around
Since all’s still good above and underground.
Linked to dVerse Poetics hosted by Paul with prompt “underground”.
Photo: “Indoor Plant” by the author
I am also linking this to dVerse Form for All that I am hosting. The form is ottava rima.
It sounds like truth. Perhaps I’ll find
Wonders on the way?
Dreaming leaves the world behind.
Truths come home to stay.
When I wake into the light
What seemed like darkness may
Sort through the shadows, cool the night,
Clear for endless day.
Liked to dVerse Quadrille hosted by Victoria C. Slotto with prompt word “sound”.
Photo: “Looking at a tree through its shadow” by the author
At first you sense a peaceful, cooler green
Than jealousy can fake within its eyes,
And then a calmer red with no disguise
That anger has to wear when it is seen.
When blue becomes delightful, sparkling bright,
Beyond what reason’s ramblings can achieve,
Then violet turns away from time and leaves
You knowing there’s no need to fear the night.
Linked to dVerse Poetics hosted by Michelle (Mish) with prompt: “Write a poem about something abstract using one or more senses”.
Photo: “Colorful” by the author. The photo was taken at the Chicago Botanic Garden.
I wonder what it feels like to pop like a kernel of corn? No matter how many times I pour a bit of olive oil into the popper, turn on the heat, drop in a third cup of kernels stirring about three minutes until the sound dies, dump the now fluffy kernels into a bowl and bless them with sea salt–no matter how many times I run this experiment, no matter how accurately I measure, I have no clue what those kernels felt. Some don’t mind leaving mysteries veiled. Some impatiently assert those mysteries don’t exist, but even they can’t escape the mystery of eat, eat, eat and then pop some more.
MOMENTS POP AWAY
WARMER DAYS MARK WINTER DONE
TIME FOR ONE MORE WALK
Linked to dVerse Haibun Monday hosted by Björn Rudberg with the prompt “consider cooking in your haibun and give us a recipe in your prose”. I have included my secret recipe for making popcorn.
Photo: “Popcorn Steps” by the author. Collage created using Google Photos.
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