Poems That Sing! by Rosemary, Mary and Truedessa

In the same week, three poets, Rosemary, Mary and Truedessa, posted poems about singing that lifted my heart. I thought they might do the same for yours, so I swiftly gathered them together in a bouquet, just for you. Enjoy!

I Sing

I sing softly and sadly
I sing sadly and softly
I sing in the middle of your delight
and at the edge of your last anguish

I sing as if the day would never end
I sing slowly at midnight and quickly at dawn

I sing to the wind and the stars and the dark
I sing to the treetops and to their trunks

I sing to small frogs in the rainwater pipe
also to the bees that visit my clover

I sing in the cities, among their towers
I sing in rainforests and alongside rivers

I sing with the sea and with thunder
with jagged rocks and rising mountains

I sing in the language of a cat
and in the colours of a butterfly

in the pouring rain I sing
in the burning sun I sing

I will never stop singing

Sherry: This is so beautiful. Yes, never stop singing, Rosemary. We are always listening for your song.

Rosemary: I became aware of something that felt like a little tickle in the back of my mind, about my poetry. I felt that perhaps I needed to try a new form – maybe a short form. Hedgewitch started a 'Friday 55' prompt at her blog. It began in September, but I had such a busy September that I was rarely online and didn't find out about it until the end of the month. It sounded like just what I was after, so I dashed off four (for the four Fridays I'd missed).

But then I pretty soon realised that I wasn't very thrilled with them. They struck me as banal and boring. I assessed myself as having fallen, over time, into a mode of cosy domestic realism which had become my default position. Not where I wanted to remain! For sure it has its place, but please, not for the rest of my writing life. What is it to be any kind of artist, if we don't keep exploring new possibilities?

I decided to just open up my mind and see what poured forth from the subconscious. It was a little like channelling. Several intensely emotional pieces flowed on to the page. They’re not autobiographical – except that at my age I've experienced a range of human emotions, so I guess they're all still in there somewhere. 

'I Sing' was the third of these pieces, which all happened in quick succession. This one goes beyond describing an emotional state, to something more spiritual. 

I have no idea where it came from. Some deep place inside me? A gift from the angels of poetry? I didn't know, ahead of writing them, what words I was going to use nor the shape they would take on the page. 

I am no singer in the literal sense. I have a poor ear for music, and am told I don't sing in tune (something my listeners can hear but I can’t). But it's clear to me, and I hope to readers, that it isn't about singing with the voice.

I thought my friend Raeline's response (serendipitously, the first comment made) expressed a perfect understanding. 'In the key of the heart and melody of the soul,' she said. It felt like that.

Sherry: And the reader feels it, as we read, Rosemary. It is so beautiful. It is a breathtaking piece of writing, and such an affirmation of life, of living every moment we are here. Thank you so much.

Let's read Mary's poem on this theme. I love it so much.

I Sing

I sing in the morning
and all the day long

I sing softly or loudly
I cannot stop my singing

I sing of my sadness
and of my delight

I sing of the memories
to brighten my day

I sing of the sadness
I cannot forget

I sing of my hopes
may they not be dashed

I sing of trees
and colorful autumn leaves

I sing of water
and the essence of life

I sing to my dogs
they always understand

I will sing to you too
when you need a song

Sherry: I love this, Mary. It lifts the heart. As I read both of these poems, I think what a nice prompt "I Sing" might be, one of these weeks. We all need a song to sing these days!

Mary: First of all, I wrote my poem “I Sing” after having read Rosemary’s poem with the same title.

I then decided to write my own ‘singing’ poem! After deciding to do this, I no longer looked back at Rosemary’s.  I just wrote what my ‘muse’ inspired me to write as I thought about the occasions that might inspire me to sing, and the feelings I might have as I sang. 

I was especially pleased with the last stanza I came up with, the way I wrote it TO the reader:

"I will sing to you too
when you need a song”

I intended it to be a personal and uplifting ending. And the more I thought about it the more I also realized that our poetry IS personal.  We are all ‘singing songs’ to one another in our poetry, aren’t we?  We all hope that somehow our poems affect others in a personal way. 

Perhaps sometimes we are even fortunate enough to write the poem (song) that someone really needs that particular day.

Sherry: And that is the very best feeling of all. Thank you for this, Mary. And for your years of dedication and hard work, keeping Poets United chugging serenely along.

Soon after Rosemary's and Mary's song poems, Truedessa posted one, and this feature formed in my mind's eye. Smiles. Let's read.

I'LL GIVE YOU THIS SONG

searching for you in the depth of night
crossing realms into our parallel world
lying in your arms, everything felt right
in stillness, romantic thoughts swirled

I'll give you this song it's all I've got
I'll give you my heart and that's a lot

surrendering my love, traveling fast
sharing my soul, sometimes I cried
wondering if the magic would last
in the dead of night, part of me died

if this is a dream, forget me not
if this is a dream, wake me not
if this is a dream we've shared a lot
if this is a dream, we've loved a lot

I've watched your life twist and bend
an evolving star in this earthly show
when lights dimmed, I was your friend
always on the sideline, never front row

I'll give you this song it's all I've got
I'll give you my heart and that's a lot

caught in mists of suspended reality
afraid to open my eyes, fear of losing you
breaking the boundaries of normality
tell me our wondrous journey was true

if this is a dream, forget me not
if this is a dream, wake me not
if this is a dream we've shared a lot
if this is a dream, we've loved a lot

searching for you in the depth of night
crossing realms into our parallel world
lying in your arms, everything felt right
in stillness, romantic thoughts swirled

I'll give you this song it's all I've got
I'll give you my heart and that's a lot

surrendering my love, waves of delight

waiting for you in our secret place
on wide wings my heart takes flight
soft fingertips, outline your face

if this is a dream, forget me not
if this is a dream, wake me not
if this is a dream we've shared a lot
if this is a dream, we've loved a lot

I'll give you this song it's all I've got
I'll give you my heart and that's a lot

twas, just a dream it seems


Sherry: How I love "I'll give you this song, it's all I've got / I'll give you my heart, and that's a lot". This poem would make the most beautiful song, True. I can almost hear it.

Truedessa: Thank you so much for featuring my poem. This particular piece is about a journey that intertwines two souls in a deeper level of consciousness. It represents a connection that seems to have crossed some kind of parallel world, and the writer and reader wonder if it is reality or fantasy. "I'll Give You This Song" is a gift of unconditional love in bittersweet circumstances.

Sherry: Unconditional love is the truest love there is. I love the idea of two souls meeting at a deeper level of consciousness. Those connections are always life-changing.

Thank you so much, ladies, for these wonderful, uplifting poems.  They truly sing. You have heartened us for the week ahead. Do come back, friends, and see who we talk to next. Who knows? It might be you!

POEMS OF THE WEEK ~ KERRY, JAE ROSE AND TRUEDESSA

This week, my friends, we have poems from three brilliant poets to share with you. I asked Kerry O'Connor of Skylover and Skywriting, Jae Rose of  her blog of the same name,  and Truedessa, of True Wanderings, if they would share the following poems with us, and they graciously agreed.  I hope you enjoy them as much as I did.

Our first selection is Kerry's beautiful poem, part of a series she embarked on recently that is resulting in some wonderful work.

THREE LITTLE BIRDS ALL IN A ROW

Three little birds in a row 
Sat musing. 
The Black Riders and Other Lines ~ Stephen Crane

I

Yes, some days, the sky is bleak
with wind grinding the clouds
and birds stolen on the wing –
and on those days, your heart
feels full of pebbles
slowly grinding your blood to dust.


II

A man came to me once, in a lonely place,
and offered to show me
the waterhole where he kept his heart.
He drew it out, and cradled it
like a pet; it clawed his hand.
I saw it had the beak of an eagle.


III

There are no answers in the firmament;
but here is my garden, waterless
and dying. Every bird comes of its own
volition, or hunger, to eat the apples
I have halved and skewered,
a purposeful dissection of my own heart.


IV

If you have a song, sing it for me now
before the drought has broken
that I may pick each note apart to wear
on a grey string around my neck.
And I will love you for life;
I will love you in the lonely place.

Kerry O'Connor, August 6, 2016

Sherry: So evocative, Kerry. I resonate with the pebbles in the heart, such a good description. I especially admire loving someone "in the lonely place." You have echoed Crane's tone admirably, yet this poem is wholly your own, and beautiful.

Kerry: This poem is, in fact, a continuation of one I wrote a few days earlier, entitled Aye; But Beloved, and both were inspired by my reading of Stephen Crane's The Black Riders and Other Lines which is a compilation of Crane's shorter pieces. Crane's poems seem to fall under the themes of righteous wisdom, human wisdom and love and its loss.

The latter theme is central to my poetry and these were the stanzas which inspired me the most. Crane's poems are all quite individual, however, while I have used the idea of short pieces to provide a more cohesive narrative of a single speaker. In 'Three Little Birds', I have made the connection more obvious by including the same motifs in each, namely the birds, the heart and the water (which becomes a song in the final stanza). 

I am currently working on another set of stanzas, which begins HERE. I have also recorded a reading of the entire collection thus far, under the title, Aye; But Beloved and Other Lines, which can be found on Soundcloud HERE. 

I doubt these poems would have been written if it were not for my reading of Crane, and I have acknowledged this in my choice of titles, and preface quotes. At present, I do not know if the series is complete, and that is an exciting position to be in for a poet, especially when the well is so often dry.

Sherry: Yes, indeed, it is always thrilling to contemplate a series of poems! Thank you for this, Kerry. And thank you for the link to the spoken poems, always a pleasure to listen to.

Now let's take a look at a powerful piece by our friend, Jae Rose.

Prophesy

She crunches her apple 

It has been a long time 

Sometimes yesterday

Almost tomorrow

She is wishing inside

Quietly parked in my arms

Happy 

I think

Composed

She corrects

Her hair is shiny

Dress 

Clean pressed and fresh

It was good they caught you

She whispers

Holding my hand

If they hadn’t 

We wouldn’t be able to play any more

Quick sticks

No time to lose

Our sins and thrills 

Have tolled and rolled

Fallen like timber

Instilled in our soul

We have to make things right 

She trills

I am scared of falling Alice

Then don’t 

She says

All falls start with one bad step

I think of the man

Of being stuck 

In the bottle of glue

Contained

Trapped

She corrects

We watch the clouds

Dreaming past the telephone pole

In the lines are forgotten shouts

Irascible destinations

Cards laid out

Installed

Enabled

We are given to magic and stars 

Twelve small stones

Mixed in a bowl of fireflies and mint

Poesy

Prophesy

Fable

There may not be home or even a rainbow

But the end always lies in the palm of our hand.  

Jae Rose August 16, 2016

Sherry: That closing is absolutely wonderful. I love the note of strength, and, as always, Alice's clear correction to find the exactly right phrase. Your small pilgrim is a wise soul.

Jae Rose: Thank you for choosing one of my poems for your feature. It is a pleasure to stand beside two inspiring poets - thank you also to Kerry and Truedessa.

'Prophesy' was the first poem I wrote after being discharged from hospital. I had a short break from blogging - and the various things that caused me to be there in the first place.

I was feeling brighter than usual. Hence Alice was all fresh and polished. Perhaps we were both renewed and a little less tired. It felt good to be home. Like something accomplished and tidied up. 

It sprang to life from four prompts - Magical Mystical Teacher’s Sunday Scribblings 2 - ‘Compose’ - and her Sunday’s Whirligig of the same week.  The Sunday Whirl and Sanaa’s Prompt Night's - ‘Let’s take a look at the cards shall we’.

I think it was one of those poems that tumbled out without much prodding. Alice felt full of energy and young. Ready, waiting and happy to talk again.

On top of Alice’s chatter, Sanaa’s prompt brought out a little magic and playfulness. The bowl of fireflies and mint was a pleasant surprise and seemed to fit in with the stones, palmistry reference and stars.

A little internet trawling changed the title from prophecy to prophesy -

‘To prophesy is to predict something or to utter something inspired by one's god’.

The photograph posted with the poem was the fabric of my sister’s dress. She stayed with me whilst I was in hospital. I think the pattern and flowers show how it felt to be with her and to safely return home.  

Colour, love and hope which hopefully I can draw on if/when darker days return. 

Sherry: My friend, we all hope they will not return, at least not in such force. We shall help you hold them at bay.  And bless your sister for being there with and for you. She is a good sister.

That weekend was a wonderful one for poetry. That same day, in the Pantry,  I read Truedessa's wonderful 'Cupping Light', a poem which holds great impact for me and whose refrain repeats in my mind, still, as a message to me from beyond the veil. Let's take a deep draught of that light.

CUPPING LIGHT

In a sacred circle we gather
those who believe
in dreams...

We come to meditate on
life to find the answers
of our heart

Slumbering under the tree of life
I surrender myself to the beat
of twenty pounding drums...
thump
   THump
      THUMP

Dropping the cloak of insecurity
I drift away through the portal
of opportunity. My resting body
takes in spiritual nourishment

Through the darkness, I find my
way, following the signs that
lead me closer to my destination
twisted trees, screeching owl

I hear nocturnal life breathing
around me, feel the eyes peering
through hidden places.
crisp
  crackling
    twigs break with each step
      deer brush against the canvas
        of darkness...

Shadow people watch from the hollows
of giant oaks , maples and evergreens
fresh scent of pine circles me like a wreath
of pleasure...

Walking in two worlds, to find my true
potential in a landscape of changing
views, the river sings a reflective song

My heart races, beating to ancient calls
I hear you, the wolf howls from the cliff
of awareness, offering his guidance
  owoooooooooooo
     OW00000000000000
         OW000000000000000000

Darkness tightens its noose around the
hanging trees, fear of the unknown
grips me in a changing world

Apparitions dart between the
huge trunks, chanting a song
breathe, inhale/exhale

I love you
  I forgive you
    I thank you

Ahead the golden crescent moon
shines high above the treetops
shadowy figure steps out of night
approaching me, a wolf follows
in his steps...

I feel suddenly very small in this large
place of wonder. Fear of darkness in
the other world worries me, I want
to run, but can't move...adrenaline
flows through my veins....

I step forward to full-fill the dream
quest. The stars become very bright
illuminating the heavens and my path

In silence I stand before an ancient
dweller. His hair long, thick & black
with solemn eyes that reach for me
I can see the scars from the battles
of past lives.

The trees burst into a thousand lights
and my heart sings a song of new life
he offers me a firefly, places it in
my open palm. I cup it to my heart...

The offering of light is mine to carry into
my waking life.

 I love you
     I forgive you
        I thank you

echoes, as I am called back into the sacred circle
bringing with me the gift of light...

author's note: This is a vision that came to me
through meditation, it is what it is, a gift. May
you all carry a piece of light with you in your
journey.

Truedessa, August 7, 2016

Sherry: This poem is so powerful, and affects me in a very deep way. As I  mentioned, I often repeat to myself the lines "I love you. I forgive you. I thank you", and picture Pup's dear black face, as if he is speaking them to me. Tell us more about this poem, and experience, won't you?

Truedessa: First, I am delighted to be featured on Poets United - Poems of the Week. The poem you have selected is special to me as it came to me during a crystal bowl meditation / drumming session. I had been feeling the darkness of life with recent events in the world. My intention was to find light. My poem basically described the journey I embarked on as I slipped into the dreamscape.

For those who have never experienced anything like this, it can be overwhelming as everything seems very much alive as your senses become more acute. My intention was heard and full-filled, as I received the gift of light in the form of a firefly/lightning bug. I was touched by this gift and knew I had to bring honor to the vision and share the gift with those who might be in need of hope and light.

I love you.
   I forgive you.
      I thank you.

These are the words used in the chant of healing. May we all cup light and hold it to our hearts. Thank you, Sherry and the staff of Poets United, for creating a community filled with love.

Sherry: Thank you for writing this beautiful poem, and for sharing it with us, my friend.

And thank you to each of you talented women, for your poems, and your faithful participation at Poets United. We are what we are because of our members, and I feel very privileged to be among you.

My friends, I hope you take away something beautiful from these offerings today.  Sigh. My little cup is filled right to the brim. 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!