Category: Life

Life · poetry

Truth Quest

Sally11 Comments

Into her hand the strange man pressed a shell
Etched “Truth lies at the bottom of a well”

A Quest! She smiled and started her pursuit
Visiting farms, homes, parks along her route
Her Magic shell led her to Magic Cup
At Magic Well from which she pulled truth up
She held it in her hands — lovely and bright
It shimmered-glowed ethereal radiant light
But then the truth turned ugly and it hurt
The truth began to drag her through dirt

Was it a shell from heaven or from hell?
Either way it’s back down in the well

designed with AI

For this week’s W3 Punam (PoW) asks us to tell a little story in verse! Write a poem in three stanzas, with no more than 12 lines in total. Your stanzas can be different lengths.

  • Stanza one: Introduce a character who finds something unusual or strange.
  • Stanza two: Show what happens when your character uses what they’ve found.
  • Stanza three: Bring the story to an unexpected realization.

Let your imagination lead you, and see where your character’s discovery takes them!

The other day I read an old children’s story that included the quote — “Truth lies at the bottom of the well.” I had never heard it before and looked it up. It came from the Greek philosopher Democritus who wrote that we know nothing for certain because truth is hidden in a deep abyss or well.

I realize that I took my story in a different direction — but I was trying to think why truth should be hidden.

The truth is we don’t always want to know the truth.

Grief · Life · poetry

Life Can Be Hard

Sally22 Comments

Hiding in my room, back pressed against the door
Don’t come in, I whispered, while outside he swore
Barely could I breathe — in fact I held my breath
This ghutan was a feeling that felt worse than death

Now I live alone, the chaos pushed outside
With qaraar peace inside me, I am fortified
I can face tomorrow and tomorrow and again
Home now is a sanctuary, quietness within

And yet the ache of failure lingers in my heart
Did I do enough? Where did it fall apart?
Nobody will know all the secrets that I hold
But kasak gently holds my breath, as I breathe uncontrolled

This week’s W3 prompt from PoW Destiny:

Some words hold a whole experience within them. This week, use one or more of these Urdu words to tell a story through poetry:

  • Kasak (کسک)
    Pronunciation: “kuh-suk” · IPA: /kə.sək/
    A lingering ache—something that stays with you long after a moment has passed.
  • Qaraar (قرار)
    Pronunciation: “kuh-RAAR” · IPA: /qə.ɾɑːɾ/
    A quiet sense of peace—something that steadies you and helps you feel settled.
  • Ghuttan (گھٹن)
    Pronunciation: “ghoot-un” · IPA: /ɡʱʊ.ʈən/
    An unspoken feeling of suffocation—as though something inside you has no room to breathe.

Poetry form: Your choice, in 12 lines or fewer.

Faith · Life · poetry

Unexpected

Sally6 Comments

In the press of the crowd
He said out loud,
“Who touched me?”
After the shock
Those with whom he walked
Smiled and said to him bravely,

“You must understand,
Many folks, many hands —
How can we know who touched You?”
Poor woman quaking
Timidly shaking
Confessed ’cause she knew that He knew

While He was speaking
Others came seeking
Bearing the saddest of news
“Change of plans,” one said
“You can’t wake the dead.”
He pressed on, ignoring their blues.

“Why are you weeping?
The child is but sleeping,”
He said when he came to the place
And taking her hand
He told her to stand —
And she did! What joy! Such grace!

Miracles start when we go
Disbelieve what we “know”
For no one can truly know God
Reach out and touch
Ask Him too much
Human knowledge makes quite a facade

This is my day-late response to the MLMM Monday Wordle which challenges us to use these words in our post: must, wake, shake, make, shock, smile, brave, walk, plan, hands, pants, sad.

I wrote another fractured Bible story and got all the words in except “pants.” Can you see a place where pants could fit?

This story can be found in Mark 5. I love it because it reminds me to press beyond what we think we know.

The woman with the flow of blood would have been considered unclean under Levitical law — and yet, there she was, in a crowd, just wanting to touch the hem of Jesus’ robe.

He felt that touch. He healed her.

The little girl was dying when they sent for Jesus, but He didn’t make it in time. She died. The servants were dispatched to save him the trip.

But He came anyway — and raised her from the dead.

The whole story can be summed up with this — don’t put God in a box. Don’t think you know God so well that you know what He will do. As CS Lewis said of Aslan, He’s not a tame lion.

aging · Life · Music

Leaves That Are Green (turn to brown)

Sally13 Comments

This week for Song Lyric Sunday, our host Jim Adams challenges us to choose a song from an artist who was born in October. I was thrilled to discover that Paul Simon was born October 13, 1941.

If Paul Simon wrote the song when he was twenty-one years old, that would be in 1962. which is about right. He recorded it solo for his Paul Simon Song Book in 1965. The following year he recorded it with Art Garfunkel and it went on their album, Sounds of Silence. It was the B-side for Homeward Bound when that was released as a single.

I love this song.

I was twenty-one years when I wrote this song
I’m twenty-two now, but I won’t be for long
Time hurries on
And the leaves that are green turn to brown
And they wither with the wind
And they crumble in your hand

Once my heart was filled with the love of a girl
I held her close, but she faded in the night
Like a poem I meant to write
And the leaves that are green turn to brown
And they wither with the wind
And they crumble in your hand

I threw a pebble in a brook
And watched the ripples run away
And they never made a sound
And the leaves that are green turn to brown
And they wither with the wind
And they crumble in your hand

Hello, hello, hello, hello
Good-bye, good-bye, good-bye, good-bye
That’s all there is
And the leaves that are green turn to brown

Source: Musixmatch
Songwriters: Paul Simon
Leaves That Are Green lyrics © Sony/atv Songs Llc

Growing up, growing old, changing seasons — Paul Simon captured it so well as a young man. The fact that he is still performing at the age of 84 is quite a testament.

Life · Music

Autumn Breeze

Sally2 Comments

[Verse 1]
See the leaf piles scattered in the side yard
As I pull into the driveway Friday night
Happy gray squirrel gatherin’ up the acorns
While above me geese are in their flight

[Chorus]
Autumn breeze makes me feel fine
Rustlin’ through dry oak leaves in my mind
Autumn breeze makes me feel fine
Rustlin’ through dry oak leaves in my mind

[Verse 2]
Red and yellow, orange, rust-brown
Color palette whirling ‘cross my drive
So I walk on up to the doorstep
Breathe in brisk air, happy I’m alive

[Chorus]
Autumn breeze makes me feel fine
Rustlin’ through dry oak leaves in my mind
Autumn breeze makes me feel fine
Rustlin’ through dry oak leaves in my mind

[Bridge]
Sweet days of autumn, October full moon
Seasons are changing — I love this tune
And I move on, life moves on with me too
And I have friends who help carry me through

[Verse 3]
Dinner cookin’, chicken in the oven
Talk about the day that we’ve both had
Sharing hopes, and sharing memories
Life is changing, but it isn’t all bad

[Chorus]
Autumn breeze makes me feel fine
Rustlin’ through dry oak leaves in my mind
Autumn breeze makes me feel fine
Rustlin’ through dry oak leaves in my mind

First, serious apologies to Seals and Croft. I stole your song and made it mine.

Second, apologies to Linda G. Hill. You asked for Stream of Consciousness writing — meaning no editing — but I confess to some. It’s just that when I saw the prompt this morning — Breeze — I had this song running through my head. Seals and Croft wrote Summer Breeze in 1972, but here, 54 years later, I have an Autumn Breeze running through my life and mind. So I looked up the lyrics to Summer Breeze and changed them.

Life · prayer · Uncategorized

Aggressive Driving

Sally2 Comments

From “A Liturgy for Experiencing Road Rage” (Every Moment Holy, Volume 1, by Douglas McKelvey)

If my heart were more content in you, O Lord
I would be less inclined to rage at others

Of course, I’m not the one struggling with road rage. In fact, I’m not even sure that the driver of the car in which I’m riding is struggling with road rage. He’s simply an aggressive driver.

I can’t even look when he accelerates up onto someone’s tail before initiating the pass. The speedometer needle goes far higher than I am comfortable seeing or experiencing.

But I’ve learned to keep my mouth shut in those situations. I say something later, but in the moment isn’t the time.

I looked up the prayer for road rage in Every Moment Holy. Doug has written a prayer for everything. Every moment IS holy.

Of course, I changed the words — because clearly I’m not the one with the problem. I prayed, “If his heart were more content in You, he would be less inclined” to drive so aggressively.

God, could you just fix him?

The next lines in the prayer say,

Let me gauge by the knot in my gut,
the poverty of my own understanding
of the grace that I have received

It’s kind of hard to pray that about someone else when I’m the one with a knot in my gut. I’m the one with a poverty of understanding.

So I go back to the beginning.

If my heart were more content in you, O Lord
I would be less inclined to rage at others look to change others
Let me gauge by the knot in my gut,
the poverty of my own understanding
of the grace that I have received

The knot in my gut these days is about so many things that are out of my control, the least of which is aggressive driving.

I open up my knotted hands. Again. To relinquish what I can’t change.

And I have the conversation. Again. “When you drive like that, it makes my very uncomfortable.”

Life · Music

Leaving on a Jet Plane

Sally5 Comments

I am late to the party, but this week’s Song Lyric Sunday is to post a song that has to do with withdrawing or moving away. The song that immediately came to mind was “Leaving on a Jet Plane” — and I was quite sure that at least three other people would have already posted that song.

As of this writing, I didn’t see that anyone else had posted it.

Who knew that John Denver actually wrote the song? I grew up listening to folk music like the Kingston Trio and Peter, Paul and Mary. Peter, Paul and Mary performed the version that I best remember.

John Denver wrote it in 1966 and called it “Babe, I Hate to Go.” According to Wikipedia, he made several copies and gave it out as a Christmas present that year. At the urging of his then-producer, Milt Okun, he changed the name in 1967 to “Leaving on a Jet Plane.”

Peter, Paul and Mary picked it up in 1967 and put it on their album “Album 1700.” It was released as a single in 1969 when it became a hit.

Did I understand this song at the ripe old age of 9 or 10 when I first heard it? No.

Did I listen to it often enough that I learned and still know every single word? Yes.

Lyrics:

[Verse 1]
All my bags are packed, I’m ready to go
I’m standin’ here outside your door
I hate to wake you up to say goodbye
But the dawn is breakin’ it’s early morn
The taxi’s waitin’, he’s blowin’ his horn
Already I’m so lonesome I could cry

[Chorus]
So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you’ll wait for me
Hold me like you’ll never let me go
I’m leavin’ on a jet plane
I don’t know when I’ll be back again
Oh babe, I hate to go

[Verse 2]
There’s so many times I’ve let you down
So many times I’ve played around
I tell you now, they don’t mean a thing
Every place I go I think of you
Every song I sing I sing for you
When I come back I’ll wear your wedding ring (I’ll wear your ring)

[Chorus]
So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you’ll wait for me
Hold me like you’ll never let me go
I’m leavin’ on a jet plane
I don’t know when I’ll be back again
Oh babe, I hate to go

Verse 3]
Now the time has come to leave you
One more time let me kiss you
Then close your eyes, I’ll be on my way
Dream about the days to come
When I won’t have to leave alone
About the time I won’t have to say (I won’t have to say)

[Chorus]
Kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you’ll wait for me
Hold me like you’ll never let me go
I’m leavin’ on a jet plane
I don’t know when I’ll be back again
Leavin’ on a jet plane
I don’t know when I’ll be back again
Leavin’ on a jet plane
I don’t know when I’ll be back again
Oh babe, I hate to go

Life

Typo

Sally4 Comments

Man, oh man, oh man, oh man — Could there be a more appropriate prompt for Stream of Consciousness writing for me today???

The truth is that I had a misunderstanding yesterday with someone based on a typo.

Well, not really a typo. I dictate my texts.

What I say and what Siri hears are two different things. Usually, I proof and correct after I dictate — but yesterday I didn’t.

That ^^ is what Siri heard.

One period does NOT belong. I wanted to tell someone that what they were thinking was incorrect. I didn’t think that they would do something incorrectly.

A misplaced period totally changed what I was saying. I WANTED to say, “It really isn’t that I thought you wouldn’t do it properly.”

But that one period made the sentence, “I thought you wouldn’t do it properly” stand alone.

Honestly, I didn’t think that.

Really.

Honest.

Truly.

The trials and tribulations of a typo. A single misplaced period.

Life · poetry

Hygge in a Mug (an advertisement)

Sally11 Comments

Hygge (pronounced Hoo-gah) is a Danish word with no direct English equivalent. It is a cozy contented feeling that involves being in the moment, and feeling safe and comfortable.

Who knew a drink could comfort like a hug
The warmth of which permeates my soul
Freshly brewed coffee in a mug

This hygge feeling gives my heart a tug!
Pre-dawn moment makes my whole day whole
Who knew a drink could comfort like a hug?

I know, I know — caffeine is a drug
(I say that with a serious eye-roll)
Freshly brewed coffee in a mug

In my big house, I sigh and give a shrug
Aloneness — part of this season’s role
Who knew a drink could comfort like a hug

I curve my hand around, feel warmth so snug
Sipping joe, I write words to extol
Freshly brewed coffee in a mug

If I could advertise one thing, I’d plug
Java! Cuppa! Have some! I’d cajole
Who knew a drink could comfort like a hug?
Freshly brewed coffee in a mug

W3 Prompt this week: This week, let’s write a villanelle about enjoying your favorite beverage, whether alcoholic or not. What’s in your cup?

Here’s a link to my favorite villanelle of all time: https://malcolmguite.wordpress.com/2011/10/06/a-villanelle-for-national-poetry-day/

family · Life · poetry

Genealogy

Sally9 Comments

It started with a phone call
“Who are you again?”
The letter arrived yesterday
I was full of curiosity

“Who are you again?”
His answer meant nothing
I was full of curiosity
Slowly the pieces fell into place

His answer meant nothing
I scribbled down some names
Slowly the pieces fell into place
Somehow we were related

I scribbled down some names
She mailed the letter with photos
Somehow we were related
She took me up the family tree

She mailed the letter with photos
She wrote stories of people I knew
She took me up the family tree
Naming people, naming places

She wrote stories of people I knew
The letter arrived yesterday
Naming people, naming places
It started with a phone call

This is my submission for this week’s W3 prompt. PoW Reena challenged us to “to explore the music of repetition by writing a pantoum on any theme or subject.

A pantoum unfolds in four-line stanzas, with each stanza carrying two lines into the next:

  • The second line becomes the first line of the next stanza.
  • The fourth line becomes the third line of the next stanza.
  • Add new lines in the second and fourth positions, letting the repeated lines gather fresh meaning in their new surroundings.

Continue for as many stanzas as you like. To bring the poem full circle, the final stanza traditionally uses the opening stanza’s third line as its second line, and the poem’s opening line as its closing line.

This is a true story. I got a strange phone call at work one day with someone asking me for my home address. We chatted for a while. I had no idea who he was — but I did eventually give him my address. I knew this could end badly and even joked with him that at least he wasn’t asking for my social security number or credit card information.

Just the other day the letter came from a distant relative. She had actually found me through this blog! She was out of the country, but wanted to send me something regarding a relative we had in common — so she recruited a friend to call and get my address.