Loot

I have been remiss. My dear friend, Sara, sent me these, along with a note that encouraged me to return to Facebook.

I have some of the dearest friends. We hold each other, long distance so we can stand in the fiercest winds.

Thank you, Sara. Love to you.

So…

I do not get much personal mail, as I expect is true of most everyone in these times. One of the friends I know online, who is a Facebook friend, wrote me a postal letter that persuaded me to return to social media. I am still of the opinion that I may remain less engaged than in the past, but there is the thought that my posts may have some small positive influence driving my presence.

You do realize,
Of course, your words and actions
Have consequences.

*****

Life is strange, it gives,
Furthermore, it takes away;
Nothing ours to stay,
The hours rushing ocean waves –
We, notes, on a tide-swept beach.

*****

No fear, I shall not
Fear, though the darkness over
Shade every hour, day,
I know He is with me here
My Lord, God, who holds me near.

*****

The lightning rockets
Across the deepening dark sky
Sending doubt to fly.

*****

What you cannot know
Will never be clearly told,
Your high castle holds.

*****

Not a rehearsal
Love is the fully played act,
No turning away
Once your hand is dealt, your heart
Is invested, no free flight.

*****

Hiding who we are
Is opportunity for
Misunderstanding.

*****

I take my heart down
From the hidden jar to place
It here where you are,
Will you take it, do you dare?
Hearts are most precious to share.

*****

The sleep mocked me
Taking the sun far away,
Giving night for day.

*****

The chocolate is
Gone, ah dears, how shall we all
Happily go on?

*****

The music danced its
Way into every sad place,
Brushing tears away,
Calling, “Life is now present,
Follow love and be most gay.”

*****

Any art is just
An attempt to clarify
Love’s sweet majesty.

*****

And I can do these on and on, so rather than bore you, I shall stop in my tracks, getting back to the book I am enjoying and allowing you your day. Find yourself some happiness before it slips, sliding away into another day.

Again, the prompt is to write haiku and tanka. I give you enough examples, you should understand what to do. Haiku are counted syllabic poems of three lines consisting of 5 – 7 – 5 syllables. Tanka are five lines with syllable counts of 5 – 7 – 5 – 7 – 7.

I tell you now, each of you is a blessing, a unique precious gift given by the Creator to impact the world in your own individual way. Cherish who you are, for you are a miracle designed for greatness. Your light outshines every star and sun. Love, for love, is who you are.

Small Pleasures

Last weekend my mentor arranged a few hours away from his overwork, and we went shopping. This was partly because his schedule prevented our spending time on my birthday, which would not have worked for me either. I copy edited that day.

We went to Dollar Tree, and I fell for the store—everything a dollar, yes, my precious. Now, honestly, this entered my certification as a “personal money trap” to be avoided by me.

He told me to look around, and he went to get specific things. This was not a good place to turn me loose, no.

Anyway, among the things I got, the miniature organizer above. I lived with all my finds a couple of days without unpacking them. Then I took a selection of pens and put them in the organizer. The second day of looking at it unembellished, I got stickers and changed its personality.

It is so sweet that he got those few goodies for me. It does not take a lot to make me happy, a trip to a Dollar Tree with one of my favorite people.

I bet some of you know what I mean.

As a prompt, tell about a small thing that made you feel on top of the world.

Straight From Netherwheres

Not in a scanner mood, nor typing either. Here straight from the forge of my dallying mind, a bit of evidence that perfection leaves me behind.

The Occasion of Becoming 57

Appearance

I am the one who is real
Enough you feel me in the room
Even though I keep a distance
Between the breaths that pulse,
Our lives existing here, this time.
My lightness rimmed in shadow
Hard to comprehend, understand,
Left alone, a ringing voice, clear
Crystal, like water reverb, falling,
Tinkling clarion bells announcing
Events to which everyone is welcome.
The sweet aroma on the fresh breeze
Being myself, almost, yet not me
Because the well is deeper, wider,
I know not how to plunge, emerge,
I reach the stars and still soaring
Never come home to be housed,
I walk the spaces, other embracing places
Of times disremembered, unrecorded,
In the echo caverns of my wandering mind.

Release

Love, if I had it
Like a stone, firey, lit, smoky,
Flowing like a fair fountain
Not accounted with foundation
But a wild gift, surging freedom
Sprightly on a brisk bracing breeze
Never to be captured, kept,
A mystery, calling always
For my energy, all of me
To run unhampered
Over miles with
Reckless
Speed.

Settle

Should be old enough for calm
Sedate, quiet, unassuming,
Ah, you read me wrong
The race still calls me
I should tarry, but
My muscles ache
To find more
Freedom
And so I am
Now off apace
Quick to find a path
Away into the distance
Where I may surely climb
To heights so far unconquered
Making them finally mine to own.

Gratitude

It is with a full heart
I come upon this day
Which so often I came
Near missing, slipping
Into the deep silence
That does not ever allow
Voices to relay their thanks.
Another year, and what there
Is to show for the effort
Of survival and the witness
Left of growth, I show,
Many a word, verse, rhyme
And a deed or two of merit,
But most dear friends
The evidence that I remain
Surviving and pleased
I made another revolution
Fruition of enchanted
Love blessed days.

I guess I will relieve you of the burden of reading further my celebrations, incantations, prayers of being alive at this fine juncture in my personal evolution. Forgive me, for birthdays come but once a year, and God has amply blessed me that I am still here. It is a certifiable miracle, and that is why I cheer.