Peace

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Peace

Why conrinue to pray for peace when
the world's people have prayed  for peace 
for decades, for centuries?  Nothing changes.
Wars of hatred persist, blood  continues
to flow, and so many innocent lives are lost.

Who hears our prayers? If someone
with the power to respond listens, why
do they heartlessly do nothing?  Is prayer
a futile exercise, a crying into the wind?
How can one respect an unresponsive god?

Why continue to pray for peace in wars
or send thoughts and prayers when lives are
lost to gun violence? Are all prayers merely
empty words, feeble and pointless recitation,
ignored by an impotent  or uncaring god?  

This is written for Susan's prompt "For Peace" at What's Going On?

May This Be the Year

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May This Be the Year

May this be the year we come together
as a new day presents a wide-open door.
We have struggled to keep heads above water,
now is the time to work toward a positive goal.

We must use this year to find a path forward
as our journey presents  to us each new day and
opportunities for love and compassion abound.
May this be the year our hearts beat in unison again.

This is shared for Sumana's prompt at What's Going On?:  Happy New Year!

Happy New Year, Everyone!

Reflection

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 Reflection

A photo can sometimes feel more real than its subject 
as you look back at the people and places and try to remember
details  about that particular moment in long ago time.

Sometimes you can't even find the photo itself but you know
it exists somewhere, remember taking it, can still view the scene
from decades back in your mind, smiles fixed and frozen in time.

A part of you knows you can take nothing with you, time has passed,
the scene long gone, the memory blurred but still real.  You don't
remember  before or the after but still can visualize the one scene.

We live our lives in moments, some captured with a lens,
with hope they will not fade, but even as we preserve the image
the present begins  the past, smiles fade, and scenery changes.

We try to capture memories because we know they will escape,
we take photo after photo as if to press the pause button in a
futile attempt to preserve a time, to halt inevitable change.

This poem is posted for What's Going On?-- REFLECTION/LOOKING BACK/AGE

Let Your Heart Be Open

Let Your Heart Be Open

Let your heart be open, carefree as you can.
It is good to be alive, to walk free on the path
of life, through the woods, surrounded by trees
whose leaves have fallen, through the trails
your heart makes, as it beats, thankful for the
beating much like a drum.  Do you hear it?

Be still!

Listen to the heartbeats of trees around you.
As you walk in silence you will hear them,
tune your mind and heart to what they say.
Their tongues speak wisdom of the ages.
Appreciate this day alive among trees.
Walk with eyes open, arms stretched to sky.
Let your heart be open, let your spirit rise.

Be still!

This is for Sherry's prompt at What's Going On? -- "The Tongues of Falling Trees"

The Night Sounds Like a Murder

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The Night Sounds Like a Murder

The night sounds like a murder
or maybe it is just my fear
that what I thought was the worst
is only the beginning of 
the time of terrors

I wonder about the stillness of night
who is out there planning revolution
how many guns are being purchased
by people who stole the flag
and constitution

The night smells like a murder
do you smell the fires burning
see flame tongues dance in the dark
know they inch closer to my door
I hear the crackle

Yes America breaks my heart
I should say it has broken my soul
evil laughs arise from old white men
as they set fire to all that is sacred
behind closed doors

The night sounds like a murder
or maybe it is just my fear
perhaps it is a bad dream
and I will awaken soon to find
that all is fine -- I pray.

This poem is shared with What's Going On? for Susan's prompt - "Revolution."

Praise Our World

 Praise Our World

Praise our crazy fallen world.
It is all we have, and we have to live.
Praise the memories of Thanksgivings past,
times when family got together.
Memories of mother's turkey, dressing,
cranberries, sweet potatoes, pumpkin pie.
Praise the way the way we laughed together,
unaware these times were not infinite.

Praise our crazy fallen world.
It is all we have, and we have to live.
Praise the memories of winters long past,
shoveling snow before there were snow blowers.
Memories of building snowmen and snow forts,
skating New Years Eve at the city skating rink.
Praise sledding down hills in the nearby golf course,
unaware these times were not infinite.

Praise our crazy fallen world.
It is all we have, and we have to live.
Praise the memories we make today,
the windy November walks along the forest path.
Memories of delectable meals, conversations enjoyed,
plans made, poetry written, books read.
Praise sitting covered by a warm flannel blanket,
unaware these times are not infinite.

Praise our crazy fallen world.
It is all we have, and we have to live.
Praise all the wonderful memories
we cherish today.

*****

This is written for Sumana's prompt at What's Going On? ---Memory/Remembering.

And wishing anyone in the United States a "Happy Thanksgiving."

I Love

I Love

I love singing in a car,
listening to guitar,
the patter of rain, champagne.

I love the chime of a bell,
a graceful gazelle,
eagle soaring overhead, red.

And I love you too.

I love the sky just after dawn,
deer scampering on the lawn,
the dance of falling leaves, cheese.

I love the gentle waterfall,
a stroll through the mall,
a pleasant dream, ice cream.

And I love you too.

I love hikes through the park,
candles in the dark,
wooly warm clothes, a rose.

I love a puppy's soft fur,
a kitten's gentle purr,
Rainbow in the sky, and pie.

And I love you too

I love friends who make me laugh,
counting spots on a giraffe,
Books of poetry, a tree.

I love a festive family meal,
a conversation that feels real,
pizza served hot, an instant pot.

And I love you too.

Written for my prompt at What's Going On? --- I Love.

Autumn Day in Grant Park

 Autumn Day in Grant Park

One last time we walk the tree-lined path
in Grant Park on the shores of Lake Michigan
where many are already bare, but some are still
robed in brilliant colors of yellow and orange.

How many days before the stragglers fall?
How many days before winter,
before all are shades of brown and gray?
How many years before I die?

Along the path someone always writes
a Bible passage in blue chalk making
sure to note that it comes from the KJV.
I suppose everyone needs their  mission.

I remember our summer visits to Grant Park,
warm-day picnics overlooking the lake.
Two months ago all was green and warm,
each season has its beauty when we look.

Every path leads somewhere,
the squirrels scamper in every season,
as do we, every path leads somewhere.
We just have to find out where.

One squirrel scampers on an electric wire
from one side of the road to another
I marvel at its fearless balance and ingenuity
as it traverses such a danger-fraught route.

One last time we walk the tree-lined path
in Grant Park on the shores of Lake Michigan.
Every path leads somewhere, and like the squirrel
we somehow manage to find our way.

This was written for Sherry's prompt at What's Going On? --- "Walking in Earth Shoes."

Moving Day

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Moving Day

Moving house and home is nice if it is a choice, but not
for those who escape with only what they can carry
after their homes are destroyed by fire or war or because
the enemy is nearing the doorstep, and they have to flee with
only the clothes on their backs, or their country or state has

become unsafe  because they are the "wrong" color, religion,
are LBGTQ+, or.......  Then moving is not "nice" but a burden,
a necessity, the only way they can hope to survive.  But where
will THEY go when their enemies surround? I wonder where
I will go when MY enemies surround. Where? WHERE?

This was written for Susan's  Prompt 'Moving House and Home' at What's Going On?

Just An Ordinary Day

 

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Just an Ordinary Day

In the morning I pretend this is just an ordinary day,
children all over the world head to school,
no one has to flee, no homes are bombed,

no one shelters fearfully in subway stations,
no one says good-bye to family as they cross
the border, not knowing if they will meet again,

no children's hospitals, museums, libraries,
homes, businesses, monuments destroyed,
no soldiers invade with trucks, tanks, missiles,

no one is leaving everything behind,
no separations, no injuries, no deaths, not one.
in the morning I pretend this is just an ordinary day.

For Sumana's prompt "Ode to the Mundane" at What's Going On?

Thinking of Leonard Cohen

 

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Thinking of Leonard Cohen

I listen to Leonard Cohen and I am
thirty-five years younger
lying in front of my record player
records spread out across the floor
music playing loudly, unaware
of the passage of time, caught in
feelings of loneliness, love found,
love lost, hotel rooms in big cities,
dreams, yearnings, places and people,
years lived and years passing by.

I think about my life and wonder what
my future will be and about the past
and how it is Leonard Cohen with his voice
of gravel can still capture so much with his
words and his music to transport me
thirty-five years later as I listen
to the same music on my air-pods to that
place deep within my mind where
music still has the ability to transform
inspire poetry and give birth to dreams.

I listen to Leonard Cohen and I am
with him in that Chelsea Hotel, Room 224,
and he is singing to me alone, with
gravely voice and Spanish Conde guitar.
I am young, short-haired, in bell bottom jeans,

awe-struck and in love with life,

with the many possibilities ahead,
caught in a fantasy that seems so real
which still is alive in me today when
I allow myself to dream.

This was written for my prompt "Hotel" at What's Going On?

In Case I Forget to Say it Enough

 

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In Case I Forget To Say it Enough

Thank you for this autumn day, despite the cloud cover and wind and thunderstorms on the horizon.  Thank you for the gifts of green grass, red and orange leafed trees, and flowers that still bloom,  just the fact that I exist in this hour of this day.  So many blessings.  So much to be grateful for in this big and wonderful world.  

Thank you for early morning tea which warms me, walks that invigorate me, books that enlighten.  Thank you for the spring in my step, the rejuvenation of spirit, healthy food, new life, the ability to feel even when feelings are uncomfortable.  So many blessings. So much to be grateful for in this big and wonderful world.

Thank you for journeys made, conversations enjoyed, possibilities, doors open, oceans to dip one's toes into.  Thank you for good dreams as they happen, sleep as a refreshment and an escape, people who listen and care, freshly baked bread.  So many blessings. So much to be grateful for in this big and wonderful world.

Thank you for scientists and poets, visionaries and optimists, doctors who heal, and people who speak and work on behalf of the oppressed and persecuted.  Thank you for truth tellers, freedom fighters, climate warriors, all those who work for a better world.  So much to be grateful for in this big and wonderful world.

This was written for Sherry's prompt "Gratitude" for Wednesday,  October 11, at What's Going On.

I Hope When It Happens

 

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I Hope When It Happens

I hope when it happens I have time to say
oh this is how it is happening.

I am not sure that I will though, as it
may happen at an unexpected time.

I hope when it happens I have time
to say I love you just once more.

I am not sure that I will though, as I
don't know if there will be time.

I hope when it happens I will think I
made something pretty with my life.

I am not sure that I have, but there is
nothing wrong with hoping even that.

I hope when it happens I will still hope
that there will soon be a beautiful more.

This poem was written for Susan's prompt "Hill of Hope" at Hill of Hope - What's Going On

A Little Girl is Singing

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A Little Girl is Singing

A little girl is singing somewhere, happy and naive.
She holds her mother's hand as they sing together.
The mother knows what the world is like now.
The mother has her fears, but still they sing.

The little girl thinks only of this moment of joy,
holds her mother's hand, swings it as they sing
together as they walk down the path of life.
They each have their dreams. And each other.

The girl is a teenager now, still sings but holds
her mother's hand no more.  She dreams her
own dreams -- leaving home, her own place
in the world, a world she imagines.

The mother too goes on with her life, still sings
the familiar songs, walks her familiar path.
She wants to walk beside her daughter again,
but their paths have split, she feels alone.

There is so much we don't understand about life.
Mothers, daughters, paths, songs, hopes, dreams.
And there are the angels giving them hope as they
go trustingly, along individual paths.  Singing.

This was written for Sumana's prompt "mothers" on the What's Going On? Blog!

Take This Poem

 

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Take This Poem

Take the sunshine of morning,
the dog that wants to walk,
then go then.

Take the salad for lunch,
the text to my grandson,
then phone him.  

Take the warm shower, 
the stillness of the day,
then relax then.

Take pizza or quesadilla,
vegetable korma or red curry,
then savor them.

Take climate change or banning books
taking away women's rights
then fight them.

Take what do you want
combined with what do you do,
then what happens?

Take word play and thoughts,
seriousness and fun,
call it a poem then.

Written for the "Take This Poem" prompt at What's Going On? Blog.

Make Your Own Weather

Photo by Craig Whitehead 

Make Your Own Weather

Make your own weather,
start with distress and flow with it.

For whatever reason that is what you feel.
Everything is annoying, no one understands

it is about you, and you feel as you feel,
and no one can tell you how to perceive.

There is the end of summer feeling
that not everyone can understand,

the sadness of not knowing if you will see
summer again next year or what the politics

will be, so this makes you depressed
as you feel you must take care of it all, 

while you bear the weight of the world
going mad and more hateful by the day.

So you try to make your own weather,
do what you can to save your sanity

from the storms that weigh you down,
from tornadoes that threaten your brain.

For Sherry's prompt "How's the Weather" at What's Going On? blog

What's Going On?

Hi Everyone,  So glad to be writing with you again.  This is my response to our FIRST prompt in our new blog - "What's Going On?"  Just so you know, our prompts will always go up on Wednesday at 11:00 a.m. Eastern Time & close the following Sunday at 8 p.m. Our initial prompt is an exception!  I have shared another version of our theme song below as well.  Enjoy!

Lady Gaga - "What's Up" 4 Non Blondes Live Cover at #artRaveVienna

What's Going On?

What's going on I sometimes wonder
This is not the country that I knew
So many things have worsened now
I sometimes wonder where I am

What's going on I sometimes wonder
I am not as young as I feel
Sometimes I don't realize that
until another birthday rolls around.

What's going on I sometimes wonder
my grandchildren are so grown up
I remember when they were babies
now each is taller than me.

What's going on I sometimes wonder
I am back prompting poetry once again
I've reopened up my old familiar blog 
to again share poetry with my friends.

Written for What's Going On?