POEMS OF THE WEEK ~ Boomerang Poems by TONI, KIM AND SARA

I have always loved Hannah Gosselin's Boomerang Metaphor Poem form, and  used it some weeks ago for a prompt at Real Toads. All of the responses were wonderful, and it was difficult to choose only three for this feature. These poems, written by  Toni Spencer, of Kanzen Sakura, Kim Russell, of  Writing in North Norfolk, and Sara McNulty, who blogs at  Purple in Portland, really touched my heart. We hope you enjoy them.  It seems a lovely way to begin our week, contemplating the beauty of the earth.

THIS POEM IS MOON, STARS AND SUN

This poem is a moon reflected on black water.
This poem is the sun rising over the ocean in an explosion
of red.
This poem is the stars floating in the black night sky.

This poem is a green forest rising from the mist.
This poem is green cedars against pure white snow.
This poem is tiny white flowers hiding in spring green grass.

This poem touches us with wonder and awe,
it makes our breath catch in our throats
and look about our feet to not crush those tiny white flowers.

In our wonder and awe we look at the small animals
hiding beneath and under the cedars seeking nourishment and shelter.
The stars fall silent as dust in a dying blaze of fire.
We see the tiny white flowers beneath our feet too late
as we crush them into oblivion.
We weep in sorrow at the death of tiny flowers.
We weep in joy at the rising sun and the night stars
and the moon rippling on the water.
This poem is joy and sorrow,
silence and starry music,
this poem is about living in partnership with the earth.

Sherry: This poem is beautiful! Such lovely images, such a beautiful world!

Toni: I was afraid I was not going to get the form right.  I find many forms difficult because of my dyslexia.  However, after my morning walk, the poem basically wrote itself.  I have written “This poem is….” Before.  I took another walk and thought about the beauty I encountered on my walk, the everyday beauty. The blue of the skies, the shapes of the blades of grass, the clouds, the birds singing and the bark of distant dogs.  I thought of all I could lose if the changes to our world kept occurring.  So I wrote from my heart.  In essence, the poem was about living in harmony with the earth, about honoring the seasons.

Sherry: The way we are meant to live, since we are part of nature. Sigh. Thank you for this beauty, Toni.

Let's take a look at Kim's take on this form.

ThisPoem is a Hill, Indigo Water and Whiffling Geese

This poem is a distant hill.

This poem is a welter of indigo water.

This poem is geese whiffling overhead.

This poem is a rolling, breaking wave

of corn the colour of honeycomb,

washing against the grassy spine

of an ancient sleeping dragon,

a landslide rinsed green.

This poem is a distant hill.

This poem is a lively chatterbox of a river

flouncing skirts of blue and glassy grey surges.

This poem is a welter of indigo water.

This poem is a rush of air through wings,

white as Arctic snow, a flash of blizzard

twisting and turning,

climbing and falling

metamorphosing shapes.

This poem is geese whiffling overhead.

This poem is a sleeping dragon of a distant hill.

This poem is a chattering welter of indigo water.

This poem is air through geese wings whiffling overhead.

Sherry: I love the sleeping dragon of a distant hill, and the whiffling of geese overhead. So lovely! This form seems to bring forth wonderful flights of imagery. This is beautiful, Kim.

Kim: Since linking this poem up to your wonderful boomerang prompt, Sherry, I have added a final stanza to complete the boomerang, following your instructions and the beautiful example you gave us. 

In this poem, the hill represents my daughter and grandson, who celebrated his first birthday on 6th March.  They live in the undulating hills and downs of Surrey in the south of England, whereas I live in Norfolk, in the east of England, which has a flat landscape with lots of water and wild fowl, including geese, which fly in amazing expansive, expressive skies. The poem represents the pull between both places; I would dearly love to live closer to Ellen and Lucas but, after twenty seven years in Norfolk, eighteen of which have been spent happily in our cottage with its garden full of wildlife, it would have to be a very special place to tempt us to move away. I’ve recently returned from a visit with them and I had forgotten how crowded together the houses are where my daughter lives, and how busy the traffic is. When I arrived in our little village, I took a very deep breath!

Sherry: I know that feeling so well. I adore living in a village. However, we get a million tourists here every summer, and then things get rather crazy! Thank you for your beautiful poem and for sharing your thoughts with us today. 

Sara wrote a poem full of gorgeous nature images, which really lifts the heart. I note on her banner, she has written: Each day is a beautiful gift. Open it. What a wonderful philosophy!

Of Waterfalls, Sunflowers, and Breezes

This poem is a waterfall
sliding down mountain walls
in sunshine.

This poem is a sunflower
opening its eye to greet summer.

This poem is a breeze
fluttering leaves
on a sycamore tree.

This poem trickles tickles
my nose with water mist,
watches couples kiss,
and make a wish.
This poem is a waterfall
sliding down mountain walls
in sunshine.

This poem boasts brilliant
pineapple petals framing
a chocolate velvet eye.
Catches sun, bending
in the breeze, having fun.
This poem is a sunflower
opening its eye to greet summer.

This poem flit-flies between
leaves and flowers in
garden bowers, encouraging dance.
This poem is a breeze
fluttering leaves
on a sycamore tree.

This poem is a waterfall
sliding down mountain walls,
splashing on rocks, so small.

This poem is a sunflower
raising its lashed eye
toward sun, praising.

This poem is a breeze
fluttering with ease
through the sycamore’s leaves.

Sherry:  I love the sunflower raising its lashed eye. And you are so lucky, to have two dogs!

Sara:  I am honored to have my boomerang poem featured. The sunflower has always been my personal favorite. That wide eye, and bonnet-clothed appearance softens my heart. When I lived in Portland, Multona Falls was a short trip away, and breath-taking. It overlooks the Columbia River. Breezes make me feel alive, touched by an unknown force. This poem is about three of my favorite parts of nature. 

Sherry: That is it exactly: being touched by an unknown force, so much larger than we are.  Thank you, Sara, for this beauty, for writing it, and sharing it.

Thank you, ladies, for three absolutely breath-taking looks at the natural world. I think I love the boomerang form so much because it so often brings forth these images of a very beautiful world.

Do come back and see who we talk to next. Who knows? It might be you!

POEMS OF THE WEEK ~ POEMS OF LOVE BY HANNAH, ELIZABETH AND MAMA ZEN

I love the poems we are bringing to you today, kids, because they feature human and non-human creatures, and the theme is love. What could be better than love and animals? Our poets today are well-known and loved by us all:  Hannah Gosselin, who writes at Metaphors and Smiles, Elizabeth Crawford, of Soul's Music and 1sojournal, and Mama Zen, at another damn poetry blog. Pull your chairs in close, and clean your specs. You won't want to miss a single word.

Our first delightful poem is by Hannah. You'll love this. Watch for the doggy smile at the end.

Of Big-Small Happenings – Lady-bugs and Black-holes

Spring speaks in chartreuse hues again
sings a crimson song
maple leaves beginning.

Somewhere scientists record big things
shape and sound of two black-holes colliding
gravitational waves from 1.3 billion years ago.

Concentric circles were sent
wave-rippling across immense pond of uni-verse
the one-poem exclaims its presence

and here blue stars have erupted afield.
Forget-me-nots have arrived
I wonder what they would ask us to remember?

Today I recall lady-bugs
that green-breathing day
air was filled with flight

black-spotted redwings on blue sky
and on beautiful brindle coat.
So much joy in that moment

me and my dog in the grass
smiling with our eyes
laughing in our hearts.


Copyright © Hannah Gosselin and Metaphors and Smiles, 2011-16
Written in memory of my dog Jade (5-16-13), the sweetest girl ever.

Sherry: Such a beautiful girl, she was.  I love "smiling with our eyes, laughing in our hearts." Dog lovers among us will recognize this kind of love, such a deep bond, with our fur companions. It is so hard to lose them, but the memories of the joy they brought us make us smile forever after.  I love this poem, Hannah. Tell us about it.

Hannah: Lady-bugs and Black-holes is about those time-stopping, small-big moments. It's about how, when one is within that space, it feels like everything is just right. For me, one such event occurred while I was at home with my dog in the yard. Ladybugs filled the air....sunlight glimmered on wings and the atmosphere was alive with the just-rightness of it all. I planted forget-me-nots where Jade rests, and every year they return and I remember.

Sherry: Dear Jade. She was a sweetheart. Thank you, Hannah, for sharing this tender moment. Now let's take a look at Elizabeth's poem about love, which  involves a somewhat larger animal.

image from the public domain

Love Is An Elephant

Sometimes standing right there
in the middle of the living room
being ignored at all costs.

Able to survive in driest of climates
with a long trunk that sucks up, stores
memories like water so vital to life
and utterly refreshing.

Huge ears fragile enough to be moved
by any passing breeze, yet able to hear
the softest sigh at greatest distances.

Heaviness that can crush boulders, turn
rocks of resistance into pebbles of relief.
Big feet that leave an enduring path
back to itself and far beyond the same.

Tough wrinkled hide quick to protect,
defend a heart beating with life and living,
yet allow it freedom to become slow
languid with loving.

Above all of these, an ability to remember,
to weep with deepest sorrow, to grieve
the losses, both large and small,
and still continue to breathe.

Elizabeth Crawford  4/21/16

Sherry: I love this description of love, which is all of the things you have described so beautifully. Tell us more, Elizabeth.

Elizabeth: 'Love is an Elephant' was written during April and NaPoWriMo. I find when I do a poem a day that the poems often sort of bleed from one to another. That was even stronger this past April because I was also writing prompts. I would prepare the prompts the evening before and post them. They were, for the most part, six word wordles, but I occasionally dropped other prompts into that process. The poem from that day had been a letter to my Mother who passed away 6 years ago. We had a strained relationship while I was growing up and the letter addressed that issue. I was thinking about how love can often be a complex set of issues, not easily defined.

With that in mind, when I got to the prompt site, I simply created a prompt that asked writers to finish the phrase "Love is __________." While I was actually typing out the prompt phrase the word "elephant" came into my mind and I sort of grinned at the idea. Most of the individuals who read my poetry, know that a young woman, an incest victim, lived with me for ten years. She wasn't the only one. Another young woman lived with us for almost a year. She collected small figurines of elephants, leaving two of them with me when she decided to go home. By then, the first stanza of the poem had popped into my head. I typed it into a note and left it there.

The next morning I looked at it and thought I'd skip it because it seemed a bit far-fetched.  But then put the words 'elephants and love' into my address bar and asked for images for that topic. Found the image that I used for the poem because it started triggering several more ideas. And the rest, as they say, is history. 

Sherry: Or her-story!  I really loved this poem, Elizabeth.

Next we have a sizzling love poem by Kelli Simpson, whom we know as Mama Zen. This one sets the heart a-flutter, even old, shriveled-up, elephantine hearts like mine, LOL.

Dorling Kindersley/Getty images

A Beat Of Butterfly Wings

Your shirt slides
to the floor -
a beat of butterfly
wings. In Florence,
David shatters. In Tibet,
a poet dreams. A Montana
bird turns stone, falls, and is found
by a blonde locked girl.
Here, I am still as stone myself,
as your shirt
slides to the floor.

We each reach
for the infinite other
closing the distance
from star to star.
The sky kisses
the open mouthed sea;
far is near and near is far.
You kiss me; I taste
salt on your tongue,
salt and something more -
the silvery skin of a butterfly's wing
as my shirt
slides to the floor.

Kelli Simpson  5/28/2016

Sherry: Wow, Kelli, the reader catches her breath as those shirts slide to the floor. I especially love "the sky kisses the open mouthed sea." So good!

Kelli: What I remember about this one is that it was determined to rhyme whether I wanted it to or not. Oh, I fought it for a while (you should see the rough draft!), but I finally had to admit defeat. A poem wants what it wants; sometimes the poet just has to get out of the way.

Sherry: Yes, especially when the poem speaks its truth so perfectly. Thanks, Kelli, for this breathtaking poem.

Thanks to each of you talented ladies for your thoughts on love. I know our readers will  enjoy your offerings. Do come back, my friends,  and see who we talk to next . Who knows? It might be you!

Poems of the Week ~ Eco-Poems by Bjorn, De and Hannah

We have a feature close to my heart today, my friends. We are showcasing three excellent eco-poems by Bjorn Rudberg, of  Bjorn Rudberg's Writings, De Jackson, of whimzygizmo's blog, and Hannah Gosselin, who writes at Metaphors and Smiles. Their poems work together very well to take us out into the streams and fields. We can walk through the forest, visit wildlife, and experience the difficulties nature encounters these days, the human footprint having such a devastating impact. I hope you enjoy the work of these three very fine poets.

Our friend Bjorn

Sherry: Bjorn's poem "Still Life From a Silent Spring" had me right from the title, which references Rachel Carson's Silent Spring.

Here is a photo Bjorn snapped, of a springtime walk he took last spring, to get us right in the mood for his beautiful poem. Enjoy!

STILL LIFE FROM A SILENT SPRING

I.
Crushed by a boot
the marigold’s nectar
will never feed the bees.

II.
Rain flushed through
drainpipes
will school the one-finned fish.

III.
After turning up the heat –
brimstone acid
burns both leaves and lungs.

IV
In the shadow of a tree
a fawn is waiting
for the doe at gunpoint.

V
I scribble poetry
on paper heartbeats
from a dying forest.

copyright Bjorn Rudberg January 26, 2016

Sherry: Your poem makes me feel for the plight of the bees, the fawn waiting for its mother, and, especially, that last stanza, your poem written on "paper heartbeats from a dying forest." Wow.

Bjorn: ... It's an honor to have a poem shared. A few words about the poem:

This poem was written for a challenge on eco-poetry. To write something for something that I care so much about was a real challenge, as I find it really hard to write about something I care about so much without being judgmental or sappy.

I decided to collect some really simple scenes in the form of three line stanzas, that would describe the terrible things we do to nature in a detached way. Rather show and not tell. In this poem I am especially satisfied with the title that plays with the double meaning with both "still life" which could both mean something dead or still life in the meaning of hope. Silent spring was intended to give a reference to Rachel Carson. 

Sherry: You accomplished your objective to perfection, Bjorn. That is always a good aim: to show and not tell. I love the reference to Rachel Carson. The closing lines of the poem especially made me think: of the trees, our waste, (of paper and everything else). It really hit home in a big way. Thank you for this poem, which has great impact, the more so for its brevity. Well done.

Let's take a look at De Jackson's wonderful poem, "Of Limbs, and Liquid Skin", whose ending made me catch my breath.

of limbs, and liquid skin

O, Tree. I know the quiet ache
of leavings,
shedding selves.

I, too, have felt
bruised, used.

O, Ocean. I feel your heartbeat
under my own skin,
the ebb and flow of spring.

The scorch of sun.
The pull of moon.

O, Earth. I hold the buzz
of bee in the bumbled cage of my un
-quiet heart, this strangled birdsong
behind my own tired teeth.

Sorrow comes
with the knowing;
our bruisings,
our misusings.

For today, I will raise my arms
and float, let my voice fly
on fluid wings.

 copyright De Jackson, January 26, 2016

Sherry: This is really breathtaking: "the buzz of bee in my own unquiet heart", the "strangled birdsong behind my own tired teeth". And then the hope in the lifting of arms, and letting your voice fly. Sigh. I love the power in this. Love your photo, too, kiddo!

De: I have always felt a deep connection to the earth, seeing my Creator best through his incredible creation. I write often of tree, and ocean, and sky (especially that wily moon). This was my first official foray into “eco-poetry,” though. In the leavings, in the salt, in the birdsong…I like to remember that there is always, always hope. For the earth. For us.

Sherry: Yes, we must always hope, and hold the vision of a sustainable earth. I remember an activist friend of mine saying "Mother Earth feels your pain. Let her feel your joy, too." That stuck with me.

Hannah had a  close encounter with wildlife recently that was very painful for her. Her eulogy is filled with the love of nature for which  her work is so well known. I love its title, "Of Seeing", because Hannah is one who truly sees nature, close-up and personal, and brings the vision to us through her poems. 

Hannah

Of Seeing


I guess the trouble with seeing is that when I really begin to see – I care
but I can’t curse the day I counted – I worry about pigeons knowing their numbers
there’re twenty-three of them – twenty-three perched there daily
about the family of five ducks – now I look for each silent V trailing behind them
and crying guy in his car in the parking lot of a bank – I cry with him.

Maybe it’d help if there was some Karmic-Book of life equivalency
chart that would surely show how many lives equal that of another –
how many mostly frozen earth worms gathered from tar and relocated
yes, those and does the cold unidentifiable gray worm creeping slowly
and the dog and cat I rescued count toward cosmic debt?

This spring as sapling begin their seed-warmed tendril-crawl
as they reach for rain and fresh green light
growing among them will be your contribution
acorns never found will rise from the sun-warmed ground
here and there – strategically hidden they’ll become

mighty and tall – Oaks with a secreted note on their souls
your name will be written within – pure energy wishing for survival.
I hope they’ll grow to be as brilliant as the one whose roots cradle your body
now – under a careful quilt of leaves and sticks you rest
resigned by design of mankind – my wheels were too, fast

my mind was too, busy and I didn’t see you quickly enough.
Tears fell unrestrained as I sobbed my sorry over your grave
I pressed my right hand to Nature’s tiny blanket that I’d arranged
but it could not, nor did I want it to, hide your magnificent tail
slate-silver-downy-fur alive in morning’s wind. I sent prayers to appease my grief

for I’m sure that you didn’t need them – beautiful gray squirrel
and God wasn’t going to strike me down with lightning over this mistake
but regardless of my making peace with this unfortunate moment
rivulets of emotion coursed a sudden river on my neck while I drove
blurry-eyed and stopped at stop signs – did drivers and walkers see – wonder?

Have I left an impression on their perfectly-imperfect day?
Later will they remember as they chew their lunch of salad greens
as they move garlic croutons around with a poised fork
will they ask themselves who was that crying girl
will their hearts break a little, too – eyes briefly pool?


Copyright © Hannah Gosselin and Metaphors and Smiles, 2011-16

Sherry: I was riveted to every single word, Hannah. I love that you know exactly how many birds are on the wire, that you assist worms, that you bury dead squirrels, with prayers. I love the title, "Of Seeing", especially, as you do truly see nature, from the smallest to the biggest, and you love it all with such an open and appreciative heart.

Hannah: Of Seeing is an outpouring of several incidences all pooled into one poem, but the focus was definitely on the gray squirrel. I believe this is the first time I was the one controlling wheels that became an unfortunate end to a squirrel life. Luckily squirrels have come into my life in other, happier ways, too.

Last spring there were a pair of baby squirrels born on our property, they were so fun to watch – chasing each other around tree trunks and tagging one another before darting away. They’re such playful and hard-working animals. I see a message about balance in them. :)

Another squirrel serendipity is that lately I’ve been watching a program called Animal Odd Couples and in one episode the pairing was a squirrel and a Saint Bernard. Witnessing this orphaned squirrel being raised by humans from a tiny-hairless baby to a healthy adult, (hiding nuts in the house and in the dog’s fur), caused me to realize that animals can interrelate with other species and grow deep bonds as well.

There're so many amazing beings to be in awe of and to carry compassion for. When we begin to really see that we’re all One-breathing-creature and One-beating-heart – it’s impossible to unsee this kind of Truth. 

Sherry: I wish everyone could know that - that we truly are all connected, one beating heart. Sigh. So lovely. You have such a compassionate heart, Hannah, and such a love for Mother Earth and all her creatures. Bless you for caring so much.

Thank you, my three talented friends, for allowing me to feature your poems, each of which leaves us feeling closer to nature and, thus, uplifted.

Well, kids? I hope your heart was touched by the beauty of these offerings, and the caring hearts of the poems' creators. Do come back and see who we talk to next. Who knows? It might be you!

Poems of the Week ~ from Hannah, Donna and Truedessa

For a change of pace this week, we are featuring three poems on somewhat similar themes - the beauty of nature linked with spiritual beliefs. Hannah Gosselin, of Metaphors and Smiles, Donna Donabella, of Living From Happiness,  and Truedessa, of True Wanderings,  make this connection so beautifully in their poems. In our first selection, Hannah describes her moving encounter with a praying mantis.

Together

photo by Hannah Gosselin

I held hands with praying mantis
today on an abandoned road – prayed
I silently thanked Source for span of life.
.
Tan and lengthy – leggy –
pinpoint pseudopupils in planet-round-eyes
took in my form – unmoving – quiet.
.
Lying on tar of a barricaded way
I waited to hear what your last words may be
what might you – so alien-wise – say?
.
Would you tell me secrets of field –
stories of loam and tales of summer feast?
Would you whisper echo of ancient ones
generations that’ve flown to land of forever?
.
With weight of sky fire on our shoulders
boulder of gold balanced in blue
this burning immense dot –
pupil in eye of universe…
.
Does it look upon us and listen
pause to gather this strange scene?
Your tiny hand poised on my pointer finger
taking last breaths of another season…together.
.
Copyright © Hannah Gosselin and Metaphors and Smiles, 2011-15


Sherry: This just takes my breath away, Hannah. You have the gift of seeing the small miracles, and helping us to see them, too. Tell us about this encounter, and its poem, won't you?

Hannah: I nearly stepped on this amazing creature! I was out taking a walk with my dog, Finley, and I looked down just in time to see what, at first glance, appeared to be a curled autumn leaf. Once I realized what I was looking at, I instantly dropped to my belly and placed my pointer finger under its front leg and sat very still, watching its eyes, and wondering about its life and thoughts.

I was so moved by this encounter with the Praying Mantis.  It was one of those moments when time seems to stand still, and tiny becomes consuming and enormous. This poem played in my mind for a while before I got the chance to sit and write it.  Sometimes that's a good thing; things occur to me over time that may not arise if I immediately write of the experience.

Thank you for enjoying this poem, Sherry, and for sharing it with our community!

Sherry: Just reading about that encounter fills my soul right up to the very top. Thank you for the gift of describing it in a poem, my friend.

Truedessa recently wrote of her own close encounter with a small leggy insect. 

Whispering - Take a Leap of Faith

photo a-z-animals.com

In autumn's warm sunlight

a leaf traveling wherever

the golden winds blow...

there's a crispness to the air

leaves swirl in a riot of color

orange, yellow and red

driving southbound

listening to distant songs

blue skies await ahead

suddenly, I sense company

running my fingers in my hair

plucking him from a loose curl

what message do you bring

green grasshopper, harbinger

of glad tidings, stirring my heart

lifting my spirit for the journey

I see life through different eyes

listening to soft chirping lullabies

soundtracks taken from my life

so, my friend, we travel together

may our musings never fall silent

let us dance to our own steps

grasshopper speaks to me

in a language I can understand

thinking forward is the way

where will our quest lead

recalling summer songs

tuning my inner antenna

detecting energy & clarity

seeing beyond boundaries

into the realm of mystery

new discoveries & adventures

grasshopper clings to my hand

& I to the circle of life

connected in the journey

poetry in my heart flowers

chrysanthemums in bloom

inspiration in a song...

following signs

following new roads...

grasshopper whispers

"take a leap of faith"

author's note: This is to honor

the grasshopper that recently

took a road-trip with me...

copyright Truedessa 2015

Sherry: This is an amazing encounter. Grasshopper himself took a leap, to hitch a ride in your hair. Smiles. 

Truedessa: I am once again honored to be featured at Poets United. This particular poem was birthed in a peculiar way.  I was planning a trip and I hadn't been feeling well but, on the date of the trip it was a beautiful day. I still had second thoughts but, decided to go. As, I was driving I had this feeling I was not alone. I felt something in my hair and I pulled out a grasshopper. How he got in my hair is a mystery?  

I think it was one of those moments when the universe is trying to tell you something. He stuck to my hand as I drove. I started thinking about grasshoppers and how they are always hopping forward in their journey. I was awestruck by grasshopper's appearance.  I felt lighter in spirit, and I truly believe he carried a message for me and others in the journey of life.  

I believe grasshopper teaches us to follow signs and move ahead on our path with confidence. To take a leap of faith. I've found that, often in the journey, animals act as guides to help us find our way.  The next time you see a grasshopper, reflect on your life and listen with your heart.  The grasshopper is a great musician and will play his song.

Sherry:  Our insect friends are sending us profound teachings these days, it seems. I love the message Grasshopper brings! Lord knows, this world needs Faith, now more than ever.

Let's take a look, now, at Donnabella's Uni/Verse, for another glimpse of serendipitous beauty, from microcosm to macrocosm.

UNI / VERSE

photo by Donna Donabella

It gathers on the wind

With each wave strewn,

Across the tiny grains of sand

To be washed out to sea.

And then deposited once more on a new shore.

Repeating, moving, gaining strength.

This one song - a Uni/verse,

Sung with a peaceful voice.

First a ripple, then a diverse chorus rising

Gathering once again to be born on the wind.

Our true essence shared

Free of judgment, compassionate heart

Turned inward on ourselves.

Serves all; one world.

This one song I sing - this uni/verse….

© Donna Donabella 2015

Sherry: So beautiful, Donna: "this one song I sing...." When we read your words, we sing it, too.

Donna: Sherry, this poem ...really a soulful song....sprung from me during one of my writing sessions recently.  I have been contemplating a more compassionate way of life, and how to bring this way of compassion to more people in the world.  And when I thought of the world as the Universe, then it all clicked.  

The word universe quite simply means, one song.  And from this thought, the words came forth to be born and shared here in this poem.....perhaps giving people pause to consider compassion as a universal song in this rather violent and cynical world.  So in times of painful news stories and tragedies I am reminded to sing this compassionate song.

Sherry: How I adore this explanation! You remind us, too, that we are all singers of the universal song. Thank you for that, my friend.

I hope you have enjoyed this little interlude as much as I have. It is always so good to tune in to the beauty, the small daily miracles, the oneness of all life, to counter the negatives we are bombarded with daily. Poetry fills that niche wonderfully, as poets put words to those small shining moments, so we can experience them, too. Do come back and see who we talk to next. Who knows? It might be you!