Meaning

The definition
Of ourselves is uncontained
Though we trip over
Who we believe ourselves to
Be on ordinary days.

If we could see who
We are beyond the mirrors
The definition
Of our beloved desires
Might become fit for ourselves.

We may know our worth
Only told in lightning flashes
Suspended briefly
The definition above
Our limits of faith, knowledge.

Cool, cool, the water
We bathe over minds aflame
Trying to search out
A purpose, reason, needed
To give life definition.

Over a lifetime
We may find God, the Living
Definition, all
Understanding given us
Proving life miraculous.

In this poem I made each stanza in the form of a tanka. If you notice I like to do this often.

As a prompt, use a form or pattern to create a work. Adapt whatever you choose to your use.

Un

It makes no sense to
Apologize
For the things never done.

No one
Knows the missing pieces,
The nothings –

Are rightly or wrongly
Hidden,
Forests of time give cover.

Unseen
Actions, beings, creations,
Undiscovered.

However, whatever, whoever
May,
Shall never be – unless set free –

Unreality!

As a prompt, create something about the withholdings of existence.

Leaving Traces

When running, go ever lightly
Though rapid as a cheetah hunting –
Not tracking nose down, like hounds,
See the earth rising with each lunge
Catch the vision, scene in
An opportunity of words supposed
Bright foils that scrimmage
When captured upon an open page.

State the business though
Monkeyed it might be, sing it
If it is harmony – carrying peace
Like lovely masses where
Every syllable shines a precious gem
Reflections lifting sorrow, erasing
Care from souls doubting life
Can be borrowed for tomorrow.

Cupping hands for freshwater
To cool the parchment of thirst
Brought on by racing to make
This day savory, trusting
An exhausted body to rebound
Outlining a future of remarkable
Service with little decrepitude.

Lightly, overcoming the weight
Bowing shoulders, fast, losing hope;
Bringing victorious kindness forth
Presenting before the Spirit of Love
Forwarding any praise essential;
Though perhaps not winning first
God attends every soul careering on.

Staid – Still

Men and Women, collectively,
Individually,
Are fallible – prone to error.

Even those who lend hands,
Hearts, wings,
To others have days when
The world in agony and splendor
Becomes a weight beyond compare.

Failure
Is a
Habitual
Villian –
Following all who give much,
Loving more than wisdom advises.

Mistakes
Rob dignity, showcase weakness,
Tear away beauty, expose flaws,
But when opposed, the heroes
Survive.

Their stars may gain a patina,
Some hearts may doubt, lose respect;
Even those called their own
May turn away in disappointment.

As clouds clear, heroes stand, go on.

Cannot Lose

If creative practice is coming hard, the feeling is uninspired; this is not the time to break off working or quit. Waiting on the muse is not the way to breakthrough; action begets action.

When working, even without vision, the focus often appears. Creativity is not always fire from on high; sometimes, it works in the dark when the well is parched.

The best way to grow ability, skill, and talent is to use those endowments every day. Even stolen moments give time for proper application.

Creative block is a myth, or most often. The work is always available when dearly sought. Sometimes it may seem a safari fraught with desert spaces, but the jungle exists and is lush. Putting in the time, presence, generates ideas – effort reaps priceless rewards.

Practice daily, even when love lapses, passion ebbs, tunes the imagination for more significant endeavors. Sometimes it falls flat, but mistakes and failures can fold in as ingredients in other projects.

Journals, sketchbooks, devices can gather up scraps, scribbles, those pieces that become something more defined. Having a place to collect all the fragments that appear throughout the hours of the day permits imperfection and play.

Creativity is always present, but it can be shy and requires inviting into every day.