Category Archives: The Pen

Dawn Rises

mist rises from the pond
to greet the dawn
the coolness of night remains and as
wisps reach for the sun
knowing warmth it covets
birth straining towards death
the pond remains quietly in the light

A New Year

A friend posted several very gray photos on his Facebook page with short poems, expressing his depression over the new leadership.  I have been sad, angry, dismayed, but I can’t sustain that. I ‘m not made that way. My verse for this year is Romans 12:21 Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good

My responses to his photos are below.

sun rises and sets as the planet spins

It pays no mind to us

to our worries and hopes

to kings and paupers

it shines the same creating light and shadow

on the pond as on the castle

castles crumble and ponds dry up

mountains smooth out as wind

blows grains of sand

how do we live?

one grain at a time

waiting for light

waiting for rain

washing worries and hopes the same

soaking kings and paupers

pay attention

as the sun rises and sets

and we spin on this planet

pay attention

__________________________

if the world is gray, let it be silver

the light reflects off low clouds

while the sun licks her wounds

rests for another glad dawn

holding herself just on the other side

out of sight but still giving light

sun cannot help but shine

any more than I can not breathe

and while breath is not promised

nor another dawn certain

we remember gold and cling to air

if they are gone, we will meet

the sun on the other side

I will hope, and pray, and love as hard as I can.

New Year Reflections

I had so many dark thoughts about the past year and not a lot of positive for the next. I was prepared to write a ranting post about the horrible state of the world and then….I read several things written by folks much smarted than I am. For instance:

“Speaking of the happy new year, I wonder if any year ever had less chance of being happy. It’s as though the whole race were indulging in a kind of species introversion — as though we looked inward on our neuroses. And the thing we see isn’t very pretty… So we go into this happy new year, knowing that our species has learned nothing, can, as a race, learn nothing — that the experience of ten thousand years has made no impression on the instincts of the million years that preceded.” John Steinbeck January 1, 1941

It would seem that as bad as things seem, they come in cycles so in the words of Bette Davis “Fasten your seatbelts, it’s going to be a bumpy night.” I’m going to hang on and hope to ride it out until the wheel turns.

 

as long as there are poets

and stars up in the sky

then hope will fling the sweetest words

to float above us high
as long as there are singers

the band will surely play

marry the two, the singer the song

the heart will have it’s say
as long as there are dancers

and feet to tap the time

to travel the world on a single floor

movement synced with rhyme
as long as there are painters

to mirror color and line

reflect the hope, the world goes on

with brushstroke, broad and fine
as long as there’s a speck of God

in every living soul

creative need a planted seed

will help to make us whole
as long as there are hands to make

to reach across a chasm deep

to hold, to soothe, extend to shake

to do the work till time to sleep
from heart to mind to hands and feet

all will sing and move and say

and when we’re gone the song goes on

shadow, echo, fade away

 

Happy 2017 world.

Mary Rocked

When Mary rocked her baby boy

She dozed as mothers do

and as she slept she dreamed

a dream of me and you

For in her arms a baby slept

but there was more she held

for on this night all round her

God’s own angels knelt

In Mary’s  arms the world did rest

each soul who breathed and died

Mary rocked the world that night

all the way to God’s side

For every tender kiss and touch

God’s love flowed gently through

This baby born to live and die

To make each of us new

Autumn Gold

cold rusted leaves cling to wet branches

braced for a final fall

last dance before the earth swallows their life

to give back to next years new growth

memories of sun fill veins

pulse slowed to the rhythm of seasons

give way to slumber

as though winter wins the battle

as though the fight does not go on

frost will come over and over again

the cold cannot reason past it’s arrival

but roots will hold trees in place

waiting for the first drops

as light and life triumph

the bright gold a promise

that is always, always kept

hope

Wisdom of Trees

Peace falls soft with the night
Though even as the sun sets
it shares a rosy glow
Though we may be blue as the sky
The lesson from the trees
Taught as they stand still and reach
for light till it fades to black
and even then they stand
waiting to share the cool
gathered from night
when the sun returns

Grand Finale

Grand Finale Tommy Stone

Photo and Title Credit Tommy Stone

The sun, she doesn’t hide from sight

even the clouds can’t keep her light

from painting a fading sky

Even the waters sing her chorus

knowing that dark is nigh

even the trees give rest

and the birds do cease to fly

and still the sun keeps dancing

her colors wild, enchanting

as shadow slowly slanting

she says “it matters! Look and see!”

“Dance the music plays for free!”

And even as the last notes played

the echo reaches space

and though the dark will come too soon

last rays warm watcher’s face

 

Last Gasps

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Photo and Title Credit Tommy Stone

like the pillow

where I lay my head

clouds will cover trees

in softest down

as night shakes out

the wrinkles smoothing

out the tension

calming all the babies

tucking heads neath

feathered wings

nested in the darkest leaves

settle lower, deeper still

heavy lidded, curled around

from top to trunk

rooted in the bed of earth

sings a mother sky

of sunset dreams

and sleepy sighs

In The Silence

As I walk through the world
I wonder what is my purpose,
my reason, my work
Fears and worries chase me
like a million bees buzzing in my ears
but the sun reminds me that I will be warm
The pond reflects the peace
that grows in the trees and the grass
The bird stands guard
proclaiming nothing and everything
In the silence

What Are We To Do

I was honored to present this at church. After torturing my husband with practicing all week I was able to do it without reading every word. The news has been so bad lately, it makes you question everything and this was my way of trying to figure things out.

What are we to do when evil
drops in and curls up on the sofa,
whispers to us from the tv,
tickles the back of the throat as we watch
another fatherless child weep?
Will we see Jesus as we stumble
along this dry and dusty road
filled with funerals and rage?
There is no room for both love and hate.
One will always push the other off the cliff
and in the falling we close our eyes
so heaven is no more in our sight.
How we see becomes what we do.
Did God know when he took clay and formed it
in His image
how we would refuse to see Him in each other?
We cannot fall so far
that grace cannot catch us by surprise
and place us back in green pastures.
Dissension can never yell so loud
that it drowns out the bird’s song.
God waits while we struggle,
ready to
give us back the gifts made for us,
give us back the work prepared for us,
give us back the part of us that is like Him.
So, while evil sits on the sofa
let us do what makes us who we should be.
Feed the hungry, heal the sick, console the bereft.
Let’s turn our backs on the thief of joy.
Sooth the tickle at the back of the throat
with living water.
Weep with the fatherless
and be Jesus on the dusty road
for those who need Him most.
There is no law against these things
and they will give us back so much more than they cost.
We will be salt.
We will be light.
We will see grace.

Sunset Symphony

the sun so loud it hurts my ears
and even as the night would cool
I feel the heat brush tree limbs bare
and paints a sky that once knew blue
but bids us peace with brighter hue
a fierce reminder daylight wins
and as a planet silent spins
the sunset chorus covers sins
dawn will come the dance begins
but just for now keep watch and see
a symphony of light for free

a letter to myself

I am so guilty
of overthinking, overclocking, over-reacting
to it all and now I am tired and wired and
seeing that all are not good and will not be okay
and as sad as it is I will not be rushed
or crushed or brushed under the rug
stepped on like a bug, I lugged this carcass
miles and while it may have been a need
once upon a heavy time I let it go and silently
clap
in time with the breeze that carries it and me
above the storm and change, my range a new norm
a piece of peace to call I own it now
just like that guilt, the silt left by the storm, the flood
the murky mud of letting loose the noose no longer
choking off the quiet till like dandelion ghost I float
and in the invisible become seen and heard
where it matters

Before The Storm

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Photo Credit Deborah Scott Lightfoot

Thank you Deborah for inspiration.

rain skates across skidding clouds
smoking up the blue and
drowning us all in grey and sad
shrinking us into the landscape
even the trees drift into dark
while the buildings sink
their foundations into the earth
as everything waits

 

Once Upon a Time

the instructions were to begin with Once upon a time and then write a short practice piece.

Once upon a time a sad girl went for a walk. As she walked she began to hum and soon the humming turned to singing and her steps became a dance. She danced and danced and waved her arms in the air and soon her arms became wings. When she opened her throat to send out the notes she filled her lungs with air and her wings lifted her high above the swirling leaves and the wind carried her farther than her dreams. Her legs and feet began to draw up and shrink for they were no longer needed for the dance and the sun warmed her back as she floated between clouds and swirled and twirled like the leaves she had passed on her way to sky. Her words became sound that she left behind her as she soared higher and higher and farther still. As she swooped and dived and climbed again she turned her eyes to the earth she had once belonged to and she saw the green of the trees and the blue of the sea. She dove and saw her reflection on the water as she coasted just above the glittering surface and the ripples broke the image into millions of sparkling pieces. Her sadness had blown away on the breeze and she decided then and there that she was no longer earthbound. The girl who was not a girl turned back to the sky and joined the flock of others who no longer stumbled in the dirt. Sadness is small as stones on sand and she had risen above it.

Morning Flight

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image credit Tommy Stone

with ebon wings and gentle brush

takes canvas cold and blue

a softer blend that builds and builds

till sun flings up a brighter hue

and when the color catches fire

suddenly the artist free

takes flight no more to tire

soars high above the trees

they say the wind upholds their wings

but I would say it’s light

to rise above a silent pond

and join the morning flight

Quiet Goodnight

Tommy Stone Photo

Photo Credit Tommy Stone

hush now

don’t fear the dark
everything must sleep
every living thing
does the sky not tell you?
Do the shadows not close your eyes?
Let the sound of the water
sing a lullaby
let the soft breeze rock
your tired bones
all must nestle down and
curl around the earth
for warmth and peace

New Day

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The morning smells like hope

is blowing in on fall winds

Sky sets fire to yesterday’s trouble

as trees raise a new day from the cold ashes.

 

Photo Credit: Tommy Stone