Prayer for 2025

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Prayer For 2025

Introduction:

I pray for this and pray for that
but most often I wonder if my prayer will be answered
they say God answers prayers in God's own way
that God is even concerned about the tiny sparrow
but God may not answer the way we would like
and that certainly has been true these past years.

Prayer:

Dear God:

please help stop the rise of fascism in our country and this world
maintain  NATO and have these countries make the right decisions
help the people of Ukraine defend their country
assist the famiies in Gaza, Syria and so many other places
help the refugees and the countries that shelter them
protect the world from another pandemic
bring more awareness of global warming and climate change.

please turn this country away from autocracy and corruption
protect women's rights to make decisions regarding their bodies.
protect all people's rights to vote and the voting process
stand with members of the LGBTQ+ community
keep immigrants both legal and illegal safe.

please protect the freedom to buy alll books and read all books
protect teachers as they try to teach real history
protect doctors and the important decisions they make
continue to stand with people of any religion or none
please work a miracle to change the minds of cult members
and let a few unnamed evil persons be punished
(and, God,  please forgive me for that last prayer).

Conclusion

I pray for this and pray for that
but most often I wonder if my prayer is answered
they say God answers prayers in God's own way
that God is even concerned about the tiny sparrow
but God may not answer the way we would like
and that certainly has been true these past years.

This is written for Sherry's New Year's Day  "What's Going On" prompt.
In comments, feel free to add any additional 'prayers,' if you wish.

An Evening Reverie

 

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An Evening Reverie

I will say my goodbye by moonlight
search for seedy motels to rest my weary heart

I tell you my life has been no masterpiece
sometimes it has been darn near unbearable

I yearn to be dancing on a flowerless field
and make my fortune by reading crystals

Instead I gaze at starfields in the evening sky
wondering if there is another empire out there

In my tremendous aloneness I begin to panic
as silence is my only visitor, so as snow falls

I disguise myself as a moonbeam
and dance away into my dreams.

Written for Shay's Word List

I Never Said Good-bye

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 I Never Said Good-Bye

I didn't know when I saw him last time 

in Milwaukee it would be the last time.

We dated when I was in my twenties, 

before he moved and then married.

But he usually telephoned me once a year, 

tracked me down just to talk.

His wife never knew about the contact, 

and I am sure she didn't know that

when he had business in my city he took 

a past someone out to eat for old time's sake.

It was nice, this connection, no strings, 

just looking back and catching up.

I must admit these visits made me nostalgic, 

took me back to a special time. 

I wondered how many other women he 

had this kind of connection with.  I didn't ask,

didn't want to know.  And when the calls stopped,

I didn't wonder why.  I had moved again.

Last year I thought about him again, 

looked for him and found his obituary

from a few years ago. A well respected good man.  

A man I connected with long ago, 

someone I hadn't thought of in a long time.

I am sad I had no chance to say good-bye.

For Sherry's Open Link at What's Going On?

To Survive

 

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To Survive

I am a bad example of Christmas jubilation this year
but am sentimental about so many Christmas pasts
which I can now only experience in memory.

But I am not in a hurry for this holiday to pass 
as I fear the next year will be a pitiful, frightening time
with a multitude of desperados and villains in charge.

To survive, I will try to rehab myself into soulful reflection
fill my lungs with bursts of the freshest air
and, if all else fails, escape into blissful sleep.

Written using some words from this week's Shay's Word Garden.

It Can Happen Like This

 

Watkins Museum and Store in Winona, Minnesota

It Can Happen Like This

The man with the black lab in the back seat of his car waving.
The very thin woman dressed in baggy cold weather clothing
on a hot day.  I know she must be ill, but she always says good morning.
The woman bartender in the historic restaurant who shows me
that places have history but that life on those barstools still thrives.
The woman with tattoos and purple streaked hair in the Watkins Store
who asked me when I came back a second time, "What did you forget?"
and then told me that she had had such a busy day and the town was
busy this weekend because of a festival and the funeral of a girl
who had been murdered by her boyfriend. I said, "And the farm
market too," and she said she never gets to go because she works
but she likes her job and her terrific boss.  A moment of connection.
On looking back, I realize we have to seek them out.  These moments
often forgotten in the blink of an eye.  We should write them down
to remember them, so that we know it can happen like this.

For Sumana's prompt "Forgetfulness" at What's Going On?

Nightmare

Nightmare

Jazz is cooking hot and heavy
blues are surging through my guts
jewels float before blurry eyes. 

My body cold and mind combustible
I pray for a peaceful musical interlude
as a rope tightens around my neck

I sense the claws of a bully
their weapon is not a puny toy
I need some sugar to survive!

For Shay's Word Garden

Distraction

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Distraction

I don't know how many times I have been distracted
by considering just who will be sent to the gallows

still blindly hoping his words are only part of his drama,
but knowing that whatever happens next year though

we are all in this together, lamps lit, voices raised,
knowing that miracles can (they say) happen 

and hoping that the dismal saga will end happily
and light will prevail in the kingdom once again!

Written for Shay's Word List

Today's Sermon

 

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Today's Sermon

Today's sermon is I want to take a walk and try to walk away my worries.
I want to take a break from the pain of this world in any way that I can.  

I want to sit in silence, read my book, pretend nothing else exists in the world. 
Today's sermon is I walk with futility and despair. The rule of law has gone to hell.

Today's sermon does not mention god because god has gone missing. 
Today's sermon cries in silence, screams inwardly at evil more blatant each day.  

Hate is rampant, and I am guilty myself.  Today's sermon is a question: 
Is it wrong to hate?

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This is my poem for my  "Today's Sermon" prompt at What's Going On?

Domesticity

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Domesticity

I remember the hellish sewing class and
the dress I made which I hated more.
It was a brown cotton print, a shirtwaist
that I wore only thrice because I felt guilt
looking at it hang in my closet when
my mother paid for sewing lessons.
I don't know why I agreed to them.

I wish I would have a domestic talent,
but I'm not into sewing, embroidery,
knitting, crocheting. I tried weaving
and wood burning too. Nothing took.
I hated them all.  But I can wash dishes!
And truthfully I get satisfaction from
making them all sparkly clean.

But give me a keyboard, a poem to write,
a dog to train,  a drawer to organize, 
I'll have enough to cram into my day.
I'll never be famous for anything,
won't be a legend in my own time.
But give me a good book to read
and my day will be just fine!

For Shay's Word List.

Homecoming

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Homecoming

I'm from Dairy Queen cones,
sky blue popsicles, and watching
werewolf movies on Friday nights.

I'm from rhubarb tortes, chocolate
chip cookies, always something baking
when I got home from school.

I'm from hanging clothes on the
clothesline and how fresh they
smelled after drying all day.

I'm from biking around the
neighborhood and not coming
home until it was dark.

I'm from snowballs and ice skates
and snow forts and sleds and
no one ever was cold.

I'm from starlight moonlight
and kick the can and ring the
neighbor's doorbell and run.

I'm from saddle shoes, white
bucks, and tennis shoes
but never penny loafers.

I'm from dress up like a beatnik
on Halloween and go trick-or-
treating parentless for blocks.

I'm from bike across town
to city pool and then bike home
after swimming not tired at all.

I'm from snatches of memories
more happy than sad wondering
if I have mostly forgotten the bad.

This is shared for Sherry's prompt "Homecoming" at What's Going On?