Musings and Reflections

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Feathering a Poem

I stand before my bedroom wall Paintbrush in hand. I’m not a painter, I tell Mom She insists, You need to feather it. Feather what? The paint, use the brush, feather the paint. Your grandfather was a painter, Not just of walls, But of landscapes and people. He’d paint scenes, He did one of Gallipoli, A doctor came by, saw his brother Took the painting as payment. But I’m no…

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Humble, Bumblebee

It’s impossible, they say, Watching a bumblebee, Tiny legs heavy with pollen So thick I can see it beneath his wings. This fat little bee With those small wings Shouldn’t be able to fly However, somebody never told her, This humble, bumble of a bee Going from flower to flower, Teaching that nothing is impossible That all can take flight Even when the world says, It’s impossible.

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Ancient Stones

I stand overlooking ancient stones Weathered and worn by time There on this plain they stand Sunk deep into their earthen graves If you listen Beneath the waves and the wind You just might hear your own voice Speaking in the tongues of the lost

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Thin Places

Thin places, where the veil is lifted, where one feels the divine is just a breath away, that presence of the Holy One. Some take great pilgrimages seeking out thin places, while others kneel in ancient and grand cathedrals or in the ruins of once-sacred places. Sometimes, if we’re quiet, if we sit with ourselves and listen, we might find ourselves close to that thin place in the midst of our…

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Facebook Today-A Found Poem

Started an online poetry class. Every couple of days, there is a prompt, and yesterday it was about a found poem. So, taking some of today’s Facebook postings, I found this poem. Pepper-sprayedpressured to leave,Death lies behind the walls.Sickness,DiseaseCreep out into the streets.Worm-infested food,Served cold.Miscarriage of bodyand justice.Her cries go unheeded,All cries silenced.In the…

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Shades

In a darkened room, I reach out to touch, to feel her warmth, even as she grieves the deepest loss. The room is quiet; death has visited, leaving its trace on the walls of her heart. I’m a child, these memories push through the veil, speaking through the years, never lost, just carefully packed away. There is so much to say, so many words I failed to speak. Today, I remember, today I sit here…

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Pentecost Meditation

Pentecost: the Holy Spirit comes upon the wind bearing fire; it unleashes the tongues as it unblocks the ears; it creates a new world, a new people. This untamed wind, this wildfire of hope, this invisible one, alights on these Galileans, opening them up to God’s vision. This Spirit is not so much a Holy Comforter as it is a Holy Disrupter, a Spirit breaking through into a world of strife and…

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Hanging

I look to you Jesus A tiny leaf buffeted by the winds Hanging by a mere thread As branches sway above and below The branch I cling to holds fast Yet, I am so small, insecure Dangling out here on the edge Trusting in that thin thread of faith Even as the storms rage

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Believe and See

So, we bought a new camera, a Canon EOS Rebel T7, and I’ve been playing around with images. Basically, I’ve been trying out the various modes and methods available with this camera. This one is a Petunia that Jane planted in her flower box out on the deck of our house. I downloaded the Snapseed app to help me edit my photos, adding life, color, and depth. I think that photography and poetry are…

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Shadow on the Ceiling

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Rebirth

Opened A Poet’s Glossary to page 190, I come to the early modern period Where I’m told to see, Renaissance poetry So I go to Renaissance poetry, page 516 Now I’m in a rebirth The meaning of Renaissance A rebirth of learning Sort of like myself today A rebirth as I look through this glossary Trying to understand what poetry means As poets cross between the ages As I look out upon the…

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What Surrounds You?

I’m surrounded by books, novels, and poetry books, history, and fantasy, books of theology, books about people, thieves, kings, queens who lord over the peasants, the peasants lording over the kings, worlds colliding in space, in time, horses as heroes, winter as a beginning, a lion roars, a child cries, I can hear their voices, cracking through the pages, voices breaking the silence, telling…

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Windchimes

Imagine you’re a windchime No matter which way the wind blows You still make beautiful music

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Mother’s Day

Was it a dream or an apparition? How does one know the difference when sleeping deeply, where dreams break through our cleverly constructed walls? She was there, my mom, walking into the room, not the older woman, lying sick in bed, but the mom of my childhood. She was young, smiling as she walked through that unknown portal. In my smallness, I tried so hard to call out to her, but in dreams,…

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Prayer, In-Between

“That prayer is what’s found in the in-betweens.” I’m reading Padraig O Tuama’s Poetry Unbound: 50 poems to open your world, in which he writes a short reflection for each poem. Prayer by Faisal Mohyuddin is one of those poems in which O Tuama describes prayer as what’s found in the in-betweens. In that space, between the head and heart, that space between what we read and what we feel or…

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What Do I Live For?

What do I live for? There is magic and mystery all around, it comes in the way light plays on the surface of a still pond, as sparrows flit about, diving and swooping through the air, the mystery of love, how it bends and shapes, love that deepens reaching into the heart even when that love is no longer. I want to see the poetry that walks along with me, to see in the tree more than a tree, to…

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Three Collects

Hey you Up there remote and aloof I need to hear your voice As I wander in this wilderness Amen Silent one Whose voice I cannot hear Where is my room? Where I may find rest. Amen Oh God Holder of all the cards I’m so tempted to jump off that pinnacle Just to say, I told you so Amen