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