Faith

Faith

God said to Adam and Eve, "Be fruitful and multiply,"
but he selects Sarah to be mother of his chosen people
who is barren until her old age when at last  Isaac is born.

God's law forbids murder, but then commands Abraham
to kill his son Isaac which makes Abraham wonder
which Word of God should he obey.

Jesus tells us to love God with all our heart and with
all our heart, soul, and mind; in so doing where is the
capacity to also love our neighbor as ourselves?

Jesus is fully God, yet fully man; and being immortal
this Creator is created in the form of  a baby and later
dies on a cross, then rises from the grave to live forever.

I am not oblivious to  the paradoxes, the questions,
the enigmas found in His holy Word, and I BELIEVE
despite the fact that they sometimes defy logic.

And I come to the conclusion that it is not possible
to fully understand God's mysteries and contradictions,
yet when asked if I believe I would say yes,  indeed yes.

I struggle to find truth and meaning on my journey
there is no easy answer, but I continue to seek
and I have found my personal anchor, belief, faith.


I wonder sometime how people choose their anchors. I have mine, 
despite its  paradoxes and contradictions.  I think everyone must have 
a core belief to live a meaningful life (or maybe I am wrong?).  I find 
myself wondering what anchors others.  Or perhaps this is not a 
question others ask.

I am submitting this to both dVerse Open Link & Sunday's
  Poets United Poetry Pantry on Sunday.  I am in a reflective mood.  
If you want to mention what anchors YOU rather than commenting 
on MY words, I would also enjoy / appreciate that.  Or if the subject 
makes you uncomfortable, feel free not to comment.  We are all seekers
one way or another....I think.

Open

source

Open

Open your heart - yes!
Open your mind - yes!

But then....

Open your hands
...to bake bread
...to give a hug
...to hold a hand
...to wipe a tear
...to plant a tree
...to restrain a bully
...to feed the homeless
...to write a letter
...to play with a child
...to donate to a cause

And...

Open your mouth - wisely!

Written for Poets United Midweek Motif for the prompt "Open."

Dancing With the Sky

Dancing With the Sky

Dream of flowers and sweet fruits
romance and the ocean
inhale silver music of spring

feel the tropical breeze
laugh with the sunset
invite a lingering kiss

drink in sunlight and raindrops
oh to dance with the sky
and scribble the clouds purple!

Written in the style of one who participates at dVerse
for Abhra's promptt for dVerse Poetics.

To A Politician

source

To a Politician

Sound like you know what you're doing
always  pretend to have a plan
you can do what they think you can
there is no need to fear a thing
if someone smirks, act like a king
never let them see that you sweat
accept all the applause you can get
don't let realism interfere
tell them what they desire to hear
when  elected you can forget!

For Poets United Poetry Pantry.

This is written in the decima form (ABBAACCDDC)
with eight syllables for each line.  I have written it,
tongue in cheek, to a politician.  (Pick one, any one.  LOL.)







-

Spring Seeding

Reseeding in Progress

Spring Seeding


I scatter grass seed in my yard
anxious to welcome spring at last
hopeful winter is finally past
yet still I must remain on guard
spring storms often have no regard
for hope and dream and human scheme
weather can strike a blow extreme
best laid seedlings can float away
with downpour on a stormy day
powerless I lament the stream.


This is a décima...10 lines with 8 syllables per line
written in the ABBAACCDDC form.

I have written it both for Susan's prompt "Organic"
at Poets United and Gayle's "Decima" prompt
at dVerse Form for All.


***Afterword (explanation) Last weekend I reseeded a section of lawn
after a long winter of dogs eliminating
on a certain area...causing grass beneath to die...
therefore in need of repair. With a com-
bination of topsoil, peat, and grass seed
we went to work.  I hope in a few weeks
there will be grass.  But now we are in
for a few stormy days.  Grass seeds need
rain, but surely not torrents.  But this poem
has another meaning beyond the grass
for me.  It is a metaphor for life.  Though
we plan and plant our hopes and dreams,
sometimes 'fate' has other plans....and 
then what do we do?  Reseed them again.
As I do with the grass...year after year.

Words

Words

Words sluggish as snails

slog through mud of mind

rearrange themselves

fight for position

as they struggle

day after day

week after week

year after year

against failure

to find meaning

that is not trite

to find meaning

that is new

to find something

that has not been said before

to find........the impossible.

This is written for Poets United Poetry Pantry.   

Home

Home


Home is not so much a place
as it is the people you are with.

Home is where you can relax
and wear your oldest blue jeans.

Home is where you can open the refrigerator
and put your feet up on the couch.

Home is where you know where things are
and how everything works.

Home is where you feel comfortable
and don't have to impress anyone.

Home is where you feel loved
even if you make a mistake.

Home is where you don't have to converse
if you'd rather sit and read a book.

Home is where you can go to bed early
or stay up until midnight if you want.

Home is where the dogs are glad to see you
and are happy to sit on your lap.

Home is not so much as place
as it is the people you are with.

This was written for Midweek Motif - where Sumana's prompt was "home."  

The Last Time

The Last Time
(A Fictional Haibun)

She remembers the last time she saw her.  She was standing in the home of one who was angry.  She was forced out the front door with her suitcase.  Now that she looks back she realizes the visit was probably doomed to fail from the moment she walked into the door.  If she had known, she would not have arrived in the first place.  But, in retrospect, that would only have prolonged the inevitable. It had been part of a repeating pattern.  Rejection.  The coming back together, the feeling things were good. Then again rejection, the distance, the time, the coming back. The walking on egg shells.  The slow rebuild.  And then again...  When it happens it is always a surprise.  A gut punch.

She used to remember the words said the last time, but with passing of years the actual words went underground.  Self protection perhaps. But she does remember the anger, the fixed mouth, the eyes.  The hatred.  She does remember she was was forbidden to explain to the children.....  And this is her main regret with the passing of years.  But, of course, that was by design.  The worst blow.  The permanently closed door...to them. Other times this happened she wondered if she would see her again.  There was always hope.  But this time she does not wonder or hope. She does not wonder at all.

With the angry eyes
door closes for the last time
boards are nailed in place.

This is a fictional haibun written for dVerse Haibun Monday...where the subject, as I understand it, is communication/ conversation.

Yes, oh Yes

Yes, oh Yes

When life is the most silent

we have time to watch

the greening of the world

listen to the birds' songs

and hear the voice of God

in the warm summer breeze

as we raise our eyes skyward

to the buoyant clouds

and say yes, oh yes, it is good.

This is written for, and shared with, Poets United Poetry Pantry.

A Sweet Sevenling

A Sweet Sevenling

I dream of fairy tales
happily ever after
and wishes come true

I drink champagne in Paris
limoncello in Rome
Caipeirina in Rio

and sleep with a smile!

At dVerse Meeting the Bar De introduced us to the 'sevenling form' I gave it a try!

To Trust?

To Trust?

"First they came for the socialists.....Then they came for me---and there was no one left to speak for me."    -- Martin Niemoller, a prominent Protestant pastor who spoke out against Adolf Hitler


It seems so often we take the important things for granted.  We take our health for granted until we are ill.  We take our family for granted until someone dies or moves away.  We take friends for granted until one disappoints or betrays.  We take our job for granted until we lose it.  And we also take our country for granted until something or someone stirs us up and makes us realize that all that we have believed in is being threatened.  It seems citizenship of this country is so often taken for granted; and people are caught up in believing that hate mongers represent good.  And I want to scream:  Be careful what you wish for.  Perhaps now they wish to round up others, but at some point it will be you.

Behind the rose bush
venomous snake waits to pounce
how foolish to trust.


This Haibun is written for Susan's Midweek Motif prompt on Citizenship at Poets United Midweek Motif.