Tag Archives: Hope

Speaking of Gold

She saw in nature’s
beauty and majesty her first
glimpse of the Divine, swathed in green
amidst the beauty is
an echo of gold

The home He gave her
turned out to be the hardest
to hold onto as the hue
of the forbidden fruit came to
tempt her and take hold

The loss of her
innocence came much too early
even as the green leaf’s
sprout was still on the tree and a
serpent offered a lovely flower

She could have walked away but
then there was only
nothing to lose or so
said the deceiver with an
invitation of an hour

to spare for then
it would have fallen, the leaf
as the temptation subsides
and yet that was not to
be the fate of the leaf

Temptation bowed to evil, so
rich and lovely Eden
survived, but humanity sank
deep into despair so as to
succumb to grief

Now we long so
earnestly for the Light to dawn
to know where love goes
or see love come down
and heal our souls to
see the break of a new day

A day where nothing
more precious than transparent gold
will pave the way so we can
in Eden forever stay

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The Meeting the Bar prompt at dVerse Poets Pub today is a Golden Shovel poem, which is a poem in which you take one or more lines from a favorite poem and use those lines to be the end-line words in a new poem. The result is that if you read down the right margin of the poem you will see the original line or lines. I chose Nothing Gold Can Stay by Robert Frost and used the entire poem. This poem was a big challenge for me because I discovered that you can’t really write a Golden Shovel poem unless you use enjambment, which I have a hard time with usually, but I think I made it work.

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Living Water

I’m a prickly pear cactus
living in this hot Mojave Desert

They call my home
Death Valley for good reason

Life-giving water is scarce
but I know how to survive

When the rains come
I store up this treasure
deep in my veins

It sustains me when
the inevitable dry days come

I’m a Christian
living in this spiritually dry land

They call my home
earth, a fool’s paradise

Life-giving water is scarce
but I know how to survive

When I hear God’s Word
I store up this treasure
deep in my soul

It sustains me when
the inevitable dry days come

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For the Poetics prompt at dVerse Poets Pub today, Mish wants us to write poetry inspired by the Southwest, by the desert. I love the desert—the warmth and dryness appeal to me in a way the green and rain of the Pacific Northwest (where I live now) never could.

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Set Free

She drove away from the pizza place
joyful in the knowledge that she had been set free.

No dark cloud appeared.

She realized she was humming along,
tapping her foot to the beat.

As she waited for her pizza to go,
Bad Company played on the radio.

One day, she stopped to get a pizza
on her way home from work.

She felt a weight lifted and joy return.

When she awoke, she knelt and prayed
for the strength to forgive.

One night she dreamed of forgiveness
and knew it was a message from God.

She pondered taking her own life
because she thought she was forever broken.

She spent years in darkness and anger.

She was never the same; whenever she heard Bad Company
a dark cloud would descend upon her.

Afterwards, he drove her home
and left her broken upon her doorstep.

Bad Company played on the radio.

He assaulted her in the front seat of his Lincoln.

He asked if she wanted to go to a party
and she said yes because he seemed nice.

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The NaPoWriMo prompt today is to write a story in reverse. I couldn’t help but turn each line of this semi-autobiographical story into a verse.

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My Word Wall

If all you knew of me was my poetry then what would you see?

If we had never met would my words alone let you understand my regret?

And would that be all you’d see, would I seem to you sad and small behind my word wall?

Do I reveal my joy in the verse that I employ or do you find my words simply annoy?

If you knew me in the flesh and personally would you be surprised by my poetry?

My word wall and pen keep you out or let you in depending on the mood I’m in.

Yet always there’s my God, intertwined, some think it odd, without Him I’m a fraud.

But there’s so much more to me that I’ll never let you see despite your solemn plea.

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Decided to write a second poem for today, perhaps because I’m a little sad that NaPoWriMo2016 is coming to an end soon. This is my take on long-line poetry.

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Heaven

All things new, peace abounds
Singing is an awesome sound
The glory of our God is great
Every need of mine He’ll sate

River of life eternal flows
Tree of life beside it grows
No more sorrow, no more pain
Calf beside the lion has lain

Seraphim and cherubim fly
Nevermore will anyone die
Heaven is a most wonderful place
Promised to all by Jesus’s grace
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Last night with my BSF class of 4th & 5th graders, we drew or wrote our visions of heaven. Since my drawing skills don’t go much beyond stick figures I decided to write this poem.

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Until Earth’s Last Day

One day this earth will pass away
But until then it’s ours to care
For this gift of God if we dare
We don’t know when will be the day
Because God’s Word does not say
And so the prudent thing to do
Greedy destruction all eschew
Plant and grow flowers, shrubs, and trees
Keep our garbage out of the seas
For humankind, for me, for you

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Had to write another décima for dVerse Poets Pub, but this time following the NaPoWriMo prompt for Earth Day.

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My Road

My road began bright and cheery
Birds sang sweet, lovely flowers bloomed
It would always be I assumed
Then it became dark and dreary
With each step I grew more weary
When I tried to walk all alone
Plagued by despair of being known
Oh grace, you called me back to you
Once again the skies are deep blue
Seeds of hope and forgiveness sown

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Today’s poem is a décima for dVerse Poets Pub Meeting the Bar today. (I cheated and went to Bjorn’s blog to see what the prompt was going to be before it is live at dVerse in my time zone). I’ll be linking at dVerse at noon PST. Head over there this afternoon to see what other décimas the pub folks have to offer.

This is also my Day 21 post for NaPoWriMo.

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My Pain Number Today

For Haibun Monday at dVerse Poets Pub we’re writing about communication. I decided to write about the frustration of communicating in a particular circumstance.

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People who have never experienced chronic pain don’t seem to understand why sometimes I just can’t do certain things. I know I look fine from the outside. I know I hide it pretty well most of the time. But it’s exhausting to try to live as if I had no pain. It’s difficult to know how to communicate the struggle. If I told you I was in pain every time I was in pain, you’d think I was a whiner or a broken record. So I don’t tell you, unless it’s really bad.

“What’s your pain number today?” I hate this question. I never know how to answer it. Ever. And how does what’s a 6 to me (based on 10 being the worst pain I’ve ever experienced) really communicate to a doctor how much pain I’m in? I want to answer, “Whatever number will cause you to do something to make it go away!” Because although today’s pain may not be the worst I’ve ever experienced, it’s bad enough that it brought me into this terrible, sterile, time-wasting environment in the hopes that you could help me.

“Describe your pain. Is it burning, stabbing, aching, sharp, or dull?” “Umm, yes. Can you make it go away now?”

Jesus knows my pain
Will wipe away ev’ry tear
When the Son shines bright

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My Soul Feels Peace

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My soul feels lean
flying bird by bird
like I’m falling up
or whistling in the dark

Yet walking with God day by day
under the banner of heaven
I still believe
in peace like a river

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The prompt at NaPoWriMo today is to write a “book spine” poem, or what I’ve always heard called a stack poem. They are fun to “write” and do require a little creativity. Someday I’m going to do this in a bookstore or library where the titles to choose from are endless, but for today I pulled from my own little library. (As I was thinking about writing this, it occurred to me that as more and more people read on Kindles and other e-readers, the stack poem may become a thing of the past, but hopefully not for a long, long time.)

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Nobody

I’ve spent my life thinking but not fully convinced
that no one really likes me
not even God, who it is said loves everyone

And I’ve often been fairly convinced
that my mom didn’t love me
though deep down I know she did

It’s not true, yet this persistent thought
has colored much of what I do
and what I don’t do

How long did I desire to be
a writer, but didn’t write
for anyone else to read

I’ve hidden away pages of prose and poetry
thoughts and feelings
that I now know others could relate to

How many opportunities to bless others
have I neglected because I undervalued
my own contribution to this world

I know I am loved
I am beloved by God
I am cherished by family

Nonetheless, even now sometimes
I think nobody really likes me
not even God

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The NaPoWriMo prompt for today is to write a poem with a line you are afraid to write. There are a few in this poem. I am afraid for others to know my doubt and fears. But this was good practice for writing my memoir, because that thing is going to include a lot of lines I’m afraid to write.

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