Join dVerse Poets where Lillian quotes Eccles. 3: 1-8, a time for everything.
“all is vanity,” says the preacher
life’s breath ~ “chasing after wind”
somewhere in the weary world
newborn baby first sucks in air
toddler tosses pebbles into pond
young girl twirls a wedding dance
farmer plants seed in hope of harvest
lovers laugh to embrace ~ weep, to not
developer digs dirt in hope of homes
man grieves loss of beloved wife
old woman stacks stones on beach
dying man expires with final sigh
somewhere in the weary world
“all is vanity,” says the preacher
life’s breath ~ “chasing after wind”
are these statements provocative? unacceptable, politically incorrect? should i apologize to the world? do we really believe in tolerance? does diversity respect equally?
i want to listen and learn
i may disagree but that
does not mean i hate
yes, i am privileged
to love & be loved
to also bleed red
i thank God for
his blessings
every day;
you?
The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance. (Psalm 16:6)
Abortion is a tragedy to grieve, not an occasion to celebrate. Author Leslie Leyland Fields writes an open, compassionate letter to “celebrants” of abortion here.
At heaven’s high command,
a white-hot beam of purest light
penetrates time and space
to touch our tiny blue planet.
In a peasant cottage,
silence is muted by
an alien presence; the
whispering whir of mighty wing.
Flesh crawls with palpable terror
as the dazzling creature, a holy flame,
fixes its piercing gaze on one
wide-eyed, trembling maiden.
“Do not be afraid.”
Surprising, melodious words
uttered by molten-gold messenger
to an ordinary girl who pales
in wonder, what can this mean?
Glory’s courier speaks favor—
words of prophets coming true
Spirit of I AM will overshadow you,
virgin chosen to mother Messiah.
Her eyes lower, palms sweat,
as dry lips answer from her
wildly-beating, totally yielded heart,
she burns but does not disintegrate.
“I am the Lord’s servant.”
(Originally posted in 2012 as “advent: trial by fire”; later, expanded and focused. I was privileged to read this at our church Christmas Eve service 2016, 2018, 2019!)
A small story poem of 115 words linked to dVerse where Bjorn and friends are writing narrative poetry. Also inspired by Sarah’s earlier “mindfulness” prompt!
fourth of july
was his favorite
holiday when
dad, guardian
of hot punk,
would light
our sparklers;
we’d laugh and
dance in grass,
swirling
happy sparks
in waves of
patriotism.
now he comes
to iowa to
visit us, his
(temp) guardians,
and to watch
fireflies & fireworks,
celebrating his
independence
from assisted living;
he laughs aloud
at whistling stars
and deaf-defying
bangs.
how can i
bear the time
when dad’s
bright spark
explodes and
sizzles out,
smoking white,
and all my
holidays die?
i’ll remember
the laughter,
holding warm
embers.
perhaps i shall arrange them in a
vase with fragrant yellow roses.
ah, sweet william,
now that i’ve returned
it is best to plant pansies
in the windowboxes
come away with me and
enjoy the lillies of the valley
let us gather nosegays of violets!
In the Victorian era, flowers spoke secret messages. Sarah at dVerse poets explains the meanings of different blooms (as used in my poem). Say it with flowers!
a poem in my pocket 
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