fortune is another word for
taking chances, not guarantees
life is filled with happenstance (sometimes
Earth's core stops, then spins in reverse)
circumstances come with alternatives
and more than several points of view
greys turn to darker shadows as the dusk sinks into night
echoes of the rising winds foretell a nearing winter storm
rest in the warm reassurance of family and friends
overwhelmed by the beauty
of the stars in the cloudless sky
night's shadows deepen as the moon
casts its reflection on the sea
light and darkness...the song and
the silence of eternity
living on promises ...
vague and open to prolonged debates
generations shift perceptions,
changing meanings of the words
deeply etched on a far-off shore,
truth remains after every storm
memories, tattered and fragmented by chaos and time
twisted threads and patches that don't make sense anymore
mend your vision with bold colors, creating new from the old
as the days and nights creep past,
one by one, a living stream
barren pastures, snow, and thirsty fields
hot stars and frigid moonlight
the gift of change to feed the minds and
eyes behind the windows
I am on the journey of a lifetime...the ending is unknown.
The "now" is entrancing. I cannot see it all before it's flown.
I hope for a great ending and a comprehensive review.
Thich Nhat Hanh, Peace Is Every Step: The Path of Mindfulness in Everyday Life
in the midst of outer chaos, quiet passion abides
its pebbled path leads on to the shore's ruffled waves
I arrive to each moment ... I am home in the now
so thankful that my peopled world is small and quiet
time enough and more to think...only echoes left behind
those will not slam the door as they too finally slip away
winds of late autumn lay bare
the stark beauty of tree branches
the main wooden axis and the stem,
the tree's steady bole
though gales prune weaker limbs,
twigs hold forth their leaf buds at spring
Free from fear but not free to ignore others—
rights and obligations.
Freedom to work with one another
until the work gets done.
Your strength, my weakness—
others' weaknesses may be our strengths.
Listen for the lights that sing messages our ears cannot hear.
Look about for the voices that create our pathways step by step.
Feel guardian winds reveal the miracle that every life has been.
There are stacks of life's boxes in the closet, floor to ceiling.
Labels are fading, some beyond recognition...new ones still clear.
When we leave, we'll take dancing shoes and costumes, discard the rest.
Enticing aromas of family dinner under apple trees
Fall harvest stored away, it's time to celebrate together
Favorite songs and laughter swell as evening turns to starry night
Mazed by the madness: Kaleidoscope colors! Blinding lights!
Megaphones and microphones—endless big-screen shows of nothing.
The new wizards of aah! peek around transparent curtains.
In memory of those who presaged the roads we follow,
celebrate their achievements, faithful to their final goals.
Respect and welcome others as we pave the way to peace.
From the first, I remember music
pour from our old radio,
My parents sang and danced before
they gently laid me down to sleep.
Memories sweet and timeless,
still alive as I've grown old.
.
Crackling leaves beneath my feet
hide the sight of lingering green.
Squirrels run high above my head
harvesting their forest feasts.
As evening wanes an owl asks Whoo?
Whoo? scurries home to sleep and dreams.
without mud and water, the lovely lotus flowers will not grow
without the sun, the moon could not mirror its beauty on the lake
joy and sorrow join together to create the fullness of life
tenacious winds sweep ocean sands
higher up eroded beaches
fallen trees tangle barren branches
with bleaching bones and roots
the sea is naked ... footprints turned to clay ...
bird songs echo from the past
“Soaring eagle” by PimGMX is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.
Aloft, eagles quarter their hunting space...
float on rivers in the sky.
They hunt in pairs, often four birds or six...
their sharp eagle eyes.
In dreams I float high above empty city streets,
not knowing who I search for.
“Water from all sides” by PeterThoeny is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.
breathe in deeply…find more space for sounds and thoughts and dreaming
taste the mingling currents as the world shifts from now to new
inspiration is the stuff by which creation is made
within every hardship, opportunities are buried
skills to hone, talents to discover, knowledge to be gained
at the end—success or failure—satisfaction is the prize
I try to not give advice or naively follow others'.
Situations may not be the same for you as for me.
Our dialogues, though, could reveal
more options and new paths.
sweat and tears will not achieve anything
without a goal to reach
goals emerge where dreams are fed and watered
tended, pruned back, and shaped
anchored to earth and reaching the sky...
soon to build a longer bridge
as the world around us changes
so must the long-term goals
common practices and mindsets
have failed through the years
as the rungs on life's ladder break . . .
I will learn to walk on air
self-respect and assurance
are tempered by vast unknowns
the world around us changes
from one "earthquake" to the next
we cannot speak with certainty
without digging up the facts
stars and the waxing moon's face
float ahead, mirrored in the lake
like ghosts calling to the living,
loon songs echo from the hills
dreams entangled in the heavens
melt away as the rain begins
regret does not mean taking up
a heavy burden of remorse
or wearing sackcloth and ashes
boldly displayed or hid away
regrets are faded dreams of other paths
that we had no need to follow
Copyright 2022-07-14, by Lizl Bennefeld.
Thoughts upon reading the prompt for this week called to mind Robert Frost’s poem “The Road Not Taken“. I always found its message to be optimistic and reassuring.
the work of our hands as we
prepare the soil for planting
the fruits of the land and the dirt
that holds their seeds in trust
the weight of every harvest rests
with cherishing a fertile earth
too late to the party—the fires are out, the guests moved on
a cloudy sky—no moonlit path or guiding stars to point the way
light will surely come at dawn with signs and roads to follow
woodland flowers revel in spring
before tree leaves block summer's light
summer sun and springtime flowers
mingle as they appear and leave
with fall's cool days and longer nights
Joe-Pye-weed and gentian bloom
reality is the sum
of everything that is and isn't
changed and constantly changing...
endless causes and effects
permanent uncertainty till
all the universes end
the future that I will not live
must wait its turn while I take mine
the tasks I do are for today—
tomorrow's fall to others' hands
tomorrow and the years to come
will all depend on yesterdays
romance began in moonlight
sparkling fireworks and stars
sentiments and shared interests
reading the same library books
differences in opinions while
still setting common goals
In truth, I didn’t know what to write for this theme. But we celebrate our thirtieth wedding anniversary, this year. Lives and relationships build on the beginnings, and as the layers form, they firm up the surfaces. Make them stronger, yet more flexible. Comfortable as the layers of life work together. Common trust that can sustain relationships through difficulties. Who would have thought it?
their deep roots winter over,
fast asleep in the frozen ground
tulip bulbs and dandelions,
blue wild flax roots and seeds
melting snow and warm sunshine . . .
spring yearns to be reborn
beneath a sullen sky that promises
rain which does not fall
gossip between leaves and branches
is quiet as the vanished breeze
with bated breath fields and woodlands
anticipate the coming storms
i don't remember high school
my life flew by in a blur
band and choir rehearsals
trumpet, keyboard, and french horn
but the winters...lying in the snow
to watch the night sky's changing face
the world was created in a day...in a blink of the eye
hidden from view by a heavy mist that vanished with the dawn
the heron contemplates breakfast while silver minnows swim by
through the fragrant mist of daybreak
promise of clear morning skies
waking birds murmur soft greetings
as they stretch their wings to fly
while the birds of the night
sink into rest and lullabies
how gracefully the new leaves
flutter in the morning breeze
shadows dance along the path,
fade and disappear again
noon arrives but does not stop,
allowing room for twilight
through the thin mist of clouds
while evening yields to deeper night
enticing fireflies blink on and off
as they trace false trails
birds of day settle in while
birds of the night sing them to sleep