Are you a leader?
Do you follow?
Do you walk with the masses
or in the silence of your own thoughts?
Only you can know where your direction leads.
Give us a glimpse of your journey,
knowing we’ll be with you every step of the way.
MARIE ELENA’S PATH:
Elements of Design
a sonnet
Her longings go beyond where he has led.
His nightmares see her leaving him behind.
She takes his hand, in hopes that he will tread
Uncertain pathways – pages yet unlined.
His ruler and his compass firmly gripped,
He pointedly denotes their journey’s source.
Just staring blankly, feeling ill-equipped -
No dots to link; no way to chart their course.
She tenderly removes the tools in hand,
Endows him with a palette of rich hues,
Presents him with a canvassed-life unplanned;
Excitedly, they watch the tints diffuse.
Her watercolor fantasies achieved;
His fear of spontaneity relieved.
WALT’S EXCELLENT ADVENTURE:
WHERE I GO, WILL YOU FOLLOW?
The journey is long in this life.
We share our joys; suffer through strife
learning to give and love and grow,
teaching to others what we know;
this experiment in true-life.
In this life, we find it is rife
with heartaches that cut like a knife,
but we carry on even though
the journey is long.
From here until the afterlife,
I will walk all paths in this life.
The world has so much more to show.
So much to see before I go,
and here I’m stuck in this mid-life?
The journey is long.
May 27th, 2012 at 1:18 AM
Dehydrated
I watched the water
trickle down the hillside
slipping around blades of grass
the way boys slunk past me
their eyes fixed to the svelte curves
of the beauty across the room
as if in their thirst
they couldn’t reach
her fast enough.
I would crane my neck
around the dancers
trying to catch a glimpse
or hear her floating laughter
to learn the subtle
flutter of her lashes
that allow the boys
to drink her in
while she maintained
a strangle hold on them.
I would lose the youthful
moisture of my skin
before I would understand
I, too, had the ability to absorb
the confidence I needed
and hold my own
in a crowded room.
And I didn’t need
a drink to do it.
May 27th, 2012 at 8:56 AM
Loved: “…I, too, had the ability to absorb the confidence I needed and hold my own in a crowded room…”!
May 27th, 2012 at 10:40 AM
Congratulations on your Beautiful Bloom, Patricia! And this poem is a gem as well. “I learned the truth at 17.” and then relearned it at maturity. A touching and haunting poem with “Truth” written all over it!
May 27th, 2012 at 11:29 AM
Oh, wow, Patricia. Seriously well done. A hard learned lesson penned well.
May 27th, 2012 at 12:36 PM
Great poem, Patricia. Great imagery.
May 27th, 2012 at 7:20 PM
You’ve captured the spirit of all of us who weren’t THAT girl.
May 28th, 2012 at 12:38 AM
Patricia, AMEN! Found the same when I became a singer and took the stage for the first time. The title says it all. Dedicated to all who have not yet done at open mic? Great. Amy
May 28th, 2012 at 10:31 PM
Excellent poem, and one so many can relate to.
May 27th, 2012 at 3:20 AM
Way to go – you are on the top – I am sure you have an ever increasing measure of confidence. Great poem
May 27th, 2012 at 3:34 AM
My journey forward
weaves reflections from my past
into tapestries -
thousands of bits and pieces
gleaned from home, school, God, friends.
The Master’s blueprint,
designed by the Master’s hand,
wife, mom, sister, friend
and a dozen other hats,
leader, teacher, singer, sales.
Artist, designer -
tools provided, eyes to see,
hands to mold, draw, paint,
mind to analyze, gather
the dreams seen and those unseen.
Surprised by writing,
a new part of the blueprint
not of my planning
a humbling directive
from the architect of life.
One novel complete,
second novel rough draft done,
third waiting in wings.
English, Lit and Grammar Prof’s
would rightfully be surprised.
Illustrating books,
delightful way to express
events of novel
giving readers visual joy
while following players.
Along the journey
challenges, joys, sorrows, ups,
maybe down to pits,
forward sometimes baby steps,
knowing more plans will unfold.
May 27th, 2012 at 8:58 AM
Beautiful, especially: “…weaves reflections from my past into tapestries…”
May 27th, 2012 at 10:47 AM
Nicely written with a hopeful message. I, too, like the “weaves reflections from my past into tapestries…” lines.
May 27th, 2012 at 11:24 AM
Such a hopeful promise in your ending and I love the surprise of writing, so lucky for us that it led you here! This is such a beautiful glimpse at your blueprint, Marjory, thank you!!
June 2nd, 2012 at 7:48 AM
“…so lucky for us that it led you here! ”
Absolutely! So thankful and blessed, Marjory.
meg
May 27th, 2012 at 12:38 PM
Great job, Marjory. I enjoyed learning more about you and can relate to much of it.
May 27th, 2012 at 8:12 PM
wow, you are oozing talent in all the arts!
May 27th, 2012 at 10:57 PM
i fully regard the talents I have as gifts from God, some I have used more in His honor than others and better so at some phases of my life. Such visual gifts can also be a challenge.
— To me giftedness, and talents are present in all people. Some of the best gifts are not an outward display but are everday living. Where would the great speaker or entertainer be were it not for the light and sound folk and the cleaning crew? ….and the person who wrote the part they get the ovation for?
— I don’t knit or sew or do quiliting but admire those who do. Typing is a challege using only a few fingures, spelling we won’t go into. Cooking is just a nesessary thing. Housework…
– Teaching is a wonderful gift – a classroom of kids (any age) would drive me up a wall within a week. Me do Home teaching -no way.
– Me a secretary or bookkeeeper – forget it.
—Hoops – I am on a soap box again. Sorry – It is just that so many do not believe in themselves and what they can do….
May 28th, 2012 at 12:51 AM
Marjorie, I understand your embrace and appreciation of talents that you may not possess. For singers like me, we cannot practice our craft without an attentive, sensitive audience. I am quite in awe of my big sister’s quilting, yet I cannot even hem my jeans without drawing blood. But God is given so much credit in my life for the things I can do well, including admiring the handiwork of others. Every breath, every song, every poem… I’m a vessel taking dictation from the Holy Spirit! Peace, Amy
May 28th, 2012 at 1:23 AM
Wonderfully stated and handled, continue in the blessings of the dictations of the Holy Spirit. so real. Thank You. Marjory
May 28th, 2012 at 7:41 AM
Yes!!!
May 29th, 2012 at 1:39 AM
I am slow in getting back – but truely – Thank You each for your nice comments. they are very encouraging to me.
May 27th, 2012 at 3:43 AM
Marie – really enjoyed your poem it is so expressive and real. what a wonderful resolution of blending.
Walt – Yes, the journey is long (better than short) there is so much yet to see and do. So many people to meet. Good poem
May 27th, 2012 at 11:19 AM
The tender leading in your poem, Marie, is so inspiring! The love held in the unfolding of this masterpiece is so joyful!
SO much to see, Walt, such a song of triumph in your words. thank you for the reminder in the excitement of where paths will meander!
Warm Sunday smiles to you two and the rest of all ya’ll poetical peeps!!
May 27th, 2012 at 7:57 AM
“Her longings go beyond where he has lead.”
Nice sonnet! However, the old English teacher in me longs to correct your first line. Your word should be past tense of verb, “lead” or “led” ,
May 27th, 2012 at 8:05 AM
Oh my, yes! Thank you, Jacqueline! It’s corrected.
Red-faced Marie Elena
May 27th, 2012 at 8:07 AM
Way to lead in, Patricia! A WOW, for sure!
Marjory: yours is excellent as well, and I enjoyed getting to know more about you through it. A creative bio of sorts. Wonderful!
Marie Elena
May 27th, 2012 at 8:12 AM
Fata Morgana
The trail ended
the day you said goodbye.
Endless days so splendid,
some kind of no reply.
The day you said goodbye
your shadows were up there
some kind of no reply
voices vanished in the air.
Your shadows were up there,
your backpack gone,
voices vanished in the air,
a taxi’s honking for me to get on.
Your backpack gone,
the trail ended,
a taxi’s honking for me to get on.
Endless days so splendid.
May 27th, 2012 at 9:01 AM
“Endless days so splendid…” this is a lovely line!
May 27th, 2012 at 1:09 PM
Thank you!
May 27th, 2012 at 10:49 AM
So sad, echoes of so many ended relationships so wonderfully painted. Beautiful, Andrea.
May 27th, 2012 at 1:03 PM
Thank you Linda – I’m so glad you got it.
May 27th, 2012 at 11:10 AM
The echo of the choice lines really provide a deepening of longing and emptiness. Andrea, this is crafted so beautifully. Warm-Smiles to you.
May 27th, 2012 at 1:08 PM
Thank you, Hannah. Marie Elena and Walt taught me to write this kind of poems – and that style fitted the cry.
May 28th, 2012 at 4:33 PM
Well written, well told.
May 28th, 2012 at 10:33 PM
Well done!
May 27th, 2012 at 8:14 AM
WORN OUT
Adventurin’ along, express by shoe leather
Drooping from sky another blood red sun
Ambled through life unbothered by weather
Always tomorrow until there are none
Daydreams stacked into years like cordwood
Old-fashioned barrel-aged 160 proof fire
A sundial sentinel keeps time on the hood
Maybe when I’m sober I’ll fix that flat tire
White ghost fog blurs the roadside
Thick as a sold-out ghost convention
For all the time I’ve spent curbside
Thought I’d deserve some honorable mention
So much time in high gear, year after year
It’s a wonder I’m still here at all
Now I’m old & broke down, need help around town
Dirty jokes and crusty tales for last curtain call
May 27th, 2012 at 9:02 AM
Ohh, Cloud…
May 27th, 2012 at 10:52 AM
“White ghost fog blurs the roadside
Thick as a sold-out ghost convention.” That and the whole poem is wonderful!
May 27th, 2012 at 11:01 AM
Thank You Linda
May 27th, 2012 at 11:07 AM
“Daydreams stacked into years like cordwood,” I really love the idea of this right now, Randy!! You’ve written this with such a longing feel to it. Moving…
May 27th, 2012 at 1:02 PM
Thank You very much Hannah
May 27th, 2012 at 1:34 PM
I feel like this: “So much time in high gear, year after year
It’s a wonder I’m still here at all.” I really often wonder. Only I believe that writing gives me “a little longer.”
Thank you for your poem. I enjoyed it very much.
May 28th, 2012 at 10:35 PM
“Always tomorrow until there are none” – That line alone is a poem of beauty.
May 27th, 2012 at 8:37 AM
Oh, Meg…! Walt, You can make it!
May 27th, 2012 at 8:42 AM
[...] down, need help around town Dirty jokes and crusty tales for last curtain call ~ Randy Bell ~ THE WALK OF LIFE – PROMPT #57 Share this:TwitterFacebookLike this:LikeBe the first to like this [...]
May 27th, 2012 at 8:44 AM
ALONG THE PATH
I
make my own kind of music,
sing my own special song…..
make my own kind of music,
even if nobody else
sings
along.
Thank you, Jesus, and the Mamas and Papas.
May 27th, 2012 at 10:37 AM
Beautiful Henrietta !! As a musician I find I can especially relate to your message !
May 27th, 2012 at 1:08 PM
Thank you, so much, Cloud, music is so very important in my life!
May 27th, 2012 at 1:10 PM
And likewise mine!
May 27th, 2012 at 11:05 AM
I’m so grateful for your song alone for together each of our alone songs sing a symphony pleasing!!!
Love your poem, Hen! Happy Sunday to you!
May 27th, 2012 at 1:13 PM
Oh Hannah, dear friend of mine, YES!!!
! Happy, peaceful Sunday to you and yours also!
June 1st, 2012 at 7:32 AM
Thank you!!
June 1st, 2012 at 9:32 AM
May 27th, 2012 at 12:59 PM
You sound almost like a pilgrim. Singing the songs that you like and fit your pace. Thank you.
May 27th, 2012 at 1:16 PM
Ohh… you hear the songs of my pilgrimage which began in 1991
! Thank you, Andrea
May 28th, 2012 at 4:37 PM
Keep on singing and making beautiful music.
We each have our own drum, our own beat.
May 29th, 2012 at 6:46 AM
Oh, so true, thank you, MMt!
May 27th, 2012 at 9:13 AM
Are you a leader?
Do you follow?
Do you walk with the masses
or in the silence of your own thoughts?
Only you can know where your direction leads.
Give us a glimpse of your journey,
knowing we’ll be with you every step of the way.
“ Beyond Mediocrity”
Neither leader nor a follower be
may hide you well in the midst, but darkly.
Non-committal walks now with the masses
and with the *Biblical sounding brasses.
Love and Art require a temperature
above the place of a lukewarm capture;
hesitating heart and words hanging paused
without true heat or memorable cause.
Above the world of mediocrity,
mind grasps the cliff of spontaneity
but hangs there; shy in his comforting tone,
forbids himself leave of his safety zone.
Separation from fear and letting go
would be to allow Art and Love to flow.
*lst Corinthians, 13:1
May 27th, 2012 at 11:03 AM
I just read this two times, Jacqueline and phew…such a rich message…to stand out from and stand up in the midst of fear allowing what’s meant to become of us!!! So very victorious!!! Love it!
May 27th, 2012 at 4:50 PM
Thank you, Hannah and Henrietta, for your response. Jackie
May 28th, 2012 at 12:54 AM
Jacqueline, the rising above mediocrity indeed requires courage and a goodly dose of faith. I sat on the sidelines for years in some ways; took up the bullhorn protesting injustice in others. The “safety zone” phrase was wonderful. Peace, Amy
May 27th, 2012 at 1:18 PM
Oh, that last line! Love it!
May 28th, 2012 at 4:41 PM
Ditto – the whole poem speaks loudly and is victorious.
May 28th, 2012 at 10:37 PM
So beautiful, Jacqueline.
May 27th, 2012 at 9:17 AM
I wrote something which should probably be a novel/autobiography, but we will leave it as a poem for now. It’s on my Blog link above. I enjoyed reading this blog and especially much of the dialog in the comments.
May 28th, 2012 at 7:53 AM
Wow, Susan, I Loved this!! Thank you!
June 2nd, 2012 at 8:04 AM
All: If you have not yet clicked on Susan’s name to check out her poem and site, you are truly missing out.
Welcome, Susan! As I commented at your site, we hope you will consider posting your poems here as well. It is not a requirement, but is easier for enjoying each of the offerings, and is also easier for at least one regular among us who has trouble with links.
Again, welcome! We hope to hear more from your talented voice!
Marie Elena
May 27th, 2012 at 10:09 AM
PERCEIVE THYSELF
I have spent a ;lifetime
trying to find that talent or skill
that would make me a leader–
That would make me respected.
I am not strong or coordinated
I can’t sing, play sports, or model.
I am not beautiful or rich or powerful.
I am smart, but not a genius.
I have none of the attributes
that makes one great, makes one a leader.
So I followed those with the talents.
I tried to be like them, and failed.
Thereafter, I just raised my children,
did my job, and was a good friend.
I entertained myself by writing,
joking, and creating beautiful things.
Then one day a group referred to me
as the person who could do everything.
All the small skills that seemed insignificant to me
were perceived by others as a big talent!
Life is not always measured
by the big successes
but is often seen as a collection
of the very small ones.
,
May 27th, 2012 at 11:00 AM
Linda, this is just awesome!!! Such an encouraging poem especially for the heart of one who also always felt/feels very mediocre. Thank you so much for writing this!
May 28th, 2012 at 4:50 PM
Thanks, Hannah. I think a lot of us feel like that!
May 28th, 2012 at 6:02 PM
I think so too, Linda and you’re welcome!
May 27th, 2012 at 1:21 PM
LOVE, LOVE, LOVE that last stanza!
May 27th, 2012 at 2:46 PM
Linda, this is a great message. Thanks!
May 28th, 2012 at 12:55 AM
Linda, YES. It’s that collection of smaller gifts that, like a crazy quilt, piece together to form quite a marvelous person… especially with that dose of humility you display. Loved this. Amy
May 28th, 2012 at 4:45 PM
-Life is not always measured
-by the big successes
-but is often seen as a collection
-of the very small ones
such an important lesson to learn – and embrace.
May 28th, 2012 at 10:39 PM
Linda, I truly know the feeling. Isn’t it just exhilarating now?
May 29th, 2012 at 9:15 PM
The incident I wrote about happened over 20 years ago and it is still exhilarating. The realization kind of changed my life and certainly changed the way I felt about myself and the meaning of success.
May 27th, 2012 at 10:31 AM
Shine Your Light
There is a great light up above.
It flies in like a pure white dove
A warming glow is seen inside your heart.
This brilliant beam from up above,
It shines on you with purest love.
and drives you to forever do your part.
Shine your light for all the world.
Raise your voice in song. Be heard.
Lead the way from wrong into the right.
With true compassion, show you care.
There is no heavy cross to bear.
Do your best and always shine your light.
By Michael Grove
May 27th, 2012 at 10:54 AM
Great poem with a great message!
May 27th, 2012 at 10:58 AM
Love your closing lines, Michael! Such a great way to go into the day!
May 27th, 2012 at 1:25 PM
“…A warming glow is seen inside your heart…It shines on you with purest love…” I Love the “feel” of these words, Michael, thank you!
May 28th, 2012 at 1:07 AM
So many themes on faith and “the journey” here, it’s truly inspiring. Also makes mine seem a bit silly, but there’s room for the silly in the journey, too. “Shine Your Light” (instead of “hiding it under a bushel) seems the best way to share your goodness with others. Loved it, Mike. Amy
May 27th, 2012 at 10:36 AM
JOURNEY OF A LIFETIME
Left turns, right turns
and U-turns
Roundabouts, turnarounds
and fly-overs
On-ramps, exits
and merge lanes
smooth roads, bumpy roads
and roads under construction
mapped-out trips, spontaneous joy riding
and detours
all part of my path to today,
the journey of a lifetime
2012-05-27
P. Wanken
May 27th, 2012 at 10:56 AM
The rhythm, construction, and concept of this poem are wonderful. Such a pleasure to read.
May 27th, 2012 at 10:56 AM
The perfect road for the journey of a lifetime!! Beautifully written, Paula!!
May 27th, 2012 at 1:26 PM
You have captured it, Paula!
May 28th, 2012 at 1:08 AM
Paula, I can so relate to this one, especially the pitfalls, I wrote one for my daughter recently, hope you like it. Amy
http://sharplittlepencil.com/2012/05/02/driving-lesson/
May 28th, 2012 at 4:47 PM
FUN! Yes, and so true.
May 28th, 2012 at 10:40 PM
Yes! The ride is bumpy isn’t it?
May 27th, 2012 at 10:40 AM
[...] by Poetic Bloomings Prompt #57 — The Walk Of Life Echo this:FacebookEmailTwitterStumbleUponPinterestLike this:LikeBe the [...]
May 27th, 2012 at 10:55 AM
~LEANING ON THE LEADER~
I’ve too many careless counted steps spent,
carried heavy, a color and odor, the scent of regret.
There’re days that gathered me far from my song,
longing heart led astray, farther away and flung;
losing a slipping grip on the most real of reality.
Paths patterned in plumes of love and lupine,
streets strewn with scented lace of lavender,
and these roads were reserved for me,
rich in the poignant pose of the reddest of roses.
The beaches burned for the taste of my feet alone,
I was a sea stone craving the creative touch;
hungering to be honed by the ancient edges of ragged time.
Mountain’s depth mirrored my desire to draw nigh
crunch and grind of pebble neath feet dispelling doubt.
Streams sung the song that’s silvery and soothes,
rivers raged of the mystery that meets my senses
and ocean’s undercurrent surged of the secrets of me;
each wave calling notice to itself gracefully,
leading and following itself properly, endlessly.
A Milky Way star shone resonating with a solo vibration,
holding a frequency that attuned to my soul only.
Today it whispers a word that wiles my eyes ever upward
and I advance in the dance led by the One,
the ever enchanting Hand of nature;
I lean on love and the leading plan of the Creator.
©Hannah Gosselin 5/27/12
May 27th, 2012 at 11:47 AM
I tried to hone in on the line that touched me, that I found most beautiful in this poem. Interestingly, I couldn’t find it because the entire poem was so beautifully done it became a single, graceful line bringing me joy. Awesome, Hannah!
May 27th, 2012 at 1:29 PM
Yes, this entire poem was profoundly Georgeous, Hannah!!!
May 27th, 2012 at 8:44 PM
Gorgeous
May 28th, 2012 at 6:05 PM
Thank you so very much, Hen!!!
May 29th, 2012 at 6:49 AM
!!!
!!!
May 28th, 2012 at 6:04 PM
Linda!! Thank you, this is such a thing of joy for me to hear! So grateful that my lines could bring this for you!
May 27th, 2012 at 12:00 PM
Well, I’d say all your steps were right because they created you the way you are today. Whether our lives are determined or whether there is an afterlife – it is in the now I see that you’re alive and that requires life lived. That you let your steps be embraced by nature and the entire universe is just wonderful. I love it and I guess it’s because I never come up with such ideas. Great!
May 28th, 2012 at 6:07 PM
I’m so grateful for your kind comment, Andrea!!! This warms my heart and brings a smile to my face. Thank you!
May 27th, 2012 at 11:34 AM
My Journey
At times a mountain
A vertical climb
Obstacles along the way
Enduring harsh temperatures
Determined
At times a showboat
Enjoying the ride
Watching live entertainment
Leaving driving to others
No control
At times a schoolroom
Listening, learning
Preparing for influence
Making friends, growing, training
Limitless
At times a garden
Hard work, diligence
Tilling the earth, planting seeds
Sunshine, fresh air, pulling weeds
Abundance
At times a wedding
Eyes of tenderness
Pledging love and commitment
Promising joys through sorrow
Company
At times a poem
Small expressing big
Capturing, declaring essence
Finding God in the details
Manifest
May 28th, 2012 at 10:42 PM
Wonderful poem, Connie. I particularly liked you end-stanza words.
May 27th, 2012 at 11:42 AM
Connie, this poem is wonderful, expressing all the sides of us as human beings in such a concise, rich form!
May 27th, 2012 at 1:31 PM
I sooo Agree!!
May 27th, 2012 at 12:02 PM
CAMINO WISDOM
When means of transportation comes down to your feet
you’ll see
you’re always in the lead
and that you’re meant to be.
May 27th, 2012 at 1:32 PM
Yes, the Camino is calling to me!
May 27th, 2012 at 12:11 PM
Darn it. I posted last night from my phone, but don’t see it .
Just finished watching “The Way,” so this prompt couldn’t have had better timing.
THE WAY
Sometimes we walk
down paths chosen for us
by well-meaning folks
Sometimes we choose
the well-worn paths for ourselves
Sometimes we chance
down paths with well-meaning folks
who choose to
share their journey
while searching for a path
of their own
May 27th, 2012 at 1:33 PM
Love this, and look forward to seeing the movie, also!
May 28th, 2012 at 9:13 AM
Kimiko, from my experience with the Camino (and I am a Santiago pilgrim) you might set out for a path of your own and maybe some people really do find their own path – but hopefully, and most likely you’ll find out that your path is shared with everybody else.
Best wishes!
May 29th, 2012 at 3:13 PM
It sounds like a fantastic trip — spiritually and otherwise. My boyfriend and I are sold on the idea … pending a way of taking a month of somehow at some point!
May 30th, 2012 at 8:00 AM
Kimiko, it is and I hope that you’ll go there some day. I like the link you present below, only I wouldn’t recommend that book/guide if you’re actually going over there some day. Both the “American guide” and the “German guide” are great because they show all the parallel routes, whatever tiny trail, and they are both light to carry (you’ll only need one).
May 28th, 2012 at 9:28 AM
And I’m so sorry that Paulo Coelho and also so many other writers gave the impression that the Camino is a trail for manhood or the father and his son – even his dead son.
Kimiko, the reality is that women are all over the Camino. The few men with sons: The men take the bus and the son has a good time of his own (for instance with us).
May 29th, 2012 at 1:32 AM
West coast gal here – I have seen “Camino” several times over my tripping through the garden ….. What and where is it?
Just courious.
May 29th, 2012 at 3:18 PM
Marjory,
Good question! Camino, in and of itself, means path/journey/way.
The one I’m referring to, though, is The Camino de Santiago de Compostela — an 800km pilgrimage through Spain that leads to the cathedral where St. James’ remains are kept. It’s been a spiritual route for over 1,000 years.
I’ve heard of it multiple times before, but the move “The Way” shows a tidbit of what it’s like.
http://www.caminodesantiago.me.uk/
May 30th, 2012 at 7:46 AM
Majory, see what Kimiko says below – only I’d like to add this link: http://www.santiago-compostela.net/ which is the link that most pilgrims refer to.
June 1st, 2012 at 7:42 AM
So very apt…and befitting of the movie. Well done Kimiko!!
May 27th, 2012 at 1:32 PM
[...] Written for Poetic Bloomings. [...]
May 27th, 2012 at 1:33 PM
Sorry to make you click, but I found a cool photo.
Fun prompt, guys.
http://whimsygizmo.wordpress.com/2012/05/27/road-work/
May 27th, 2012 at 1:35 PM
Loved that ending!
May 28th, 2012 at 12:01 PM
A great, thoughtful, uplifting piece!
May 27th, 2012 at 3:04 PM
Walking outside
for the baked mail
I leave fractured
grasses; and pale
brown ticks and fleas
ride back with me
May 27th, 2012 at 9:48 PM
Oh, darn!
May 28th, 2012 at 6:21 AM
Barbara, I just love this!
May 28th, 2012 at 8:01 AM
!
!
May 28th, 2012 at 12:04 PM
The truth is that not all of life’s ventures are positive ones. Did the baked mail include some nasty bills? Of course it did! So cute and funny!
May 28th, 2012 at 12:25 PM
I figured there would be enough uplifting responses that a little yetch wouldn’t spoil the day.
May 27th, 2012 at 3:23 PM
I have no read any comments yet, except for Marie and Walt. Both are thought-provoking as usual, but I must say, Marie, that sonnet is incredible. It flows like a beautiful piece of music.
May 28th, 2012 at 6:09 AM
Sara, I wrote smth. for you on your blog – but it doesn’t show. Please look in your spam filter. And congratulations! What a sad poem you had there and I was surprised because I don’t see you that way at all. Only of course life has its ups and downs and maybe I’m just a person who never stretched the limits that far. I’m a fan of yours and I need to tell you that my Mom always needed to touch the meat before she bought it – and being a teenager, she really embarrassed me with her housewife demonstrations never acknowledging the queue behind her. Sara, thanks for your great poetry.
May 28th, 2012 at 2:46 PM
Andrea, thanks so much. I appreciate your taking the time to write this. It means a great deal to me.
June 2nd, 2012 at 8:12 AM
What a beautiful and generous compliment. Thank you so much!
meg
May 27th, 2012 at 3:58 PM
Characterization
I am a word, a phrase…grapheme*.
I’m my own special creation.
No matter how it all must seem
I am a word, a phrase…grapheme.
My face? It mirrors self-esteem
without rationalization.
I am a word, a phrase…grapheme.
I’m my own special creation.
(*a written symbol that is used to represent speech)
###
May 28th, 2012 at 8:04 AM
…yes…
May 30th, 2012 at 12:41 AM
ditto Hen’s comment – yesssss
May 27th, 2012 at 6:05 PM
Follow the Leader
Raised to pitch my expectations low,
a good self-deprecating Southern girl,
to embrace shyness as a chance to read,
to listen and follow and encourage,
to hum my song lest the tune disturb others,
to care about opinions, to fit in, to blend in,
I have gotten above my raising as I was
supposed to do. We all exceed our origins.
I don’t know where she came from, this me:
this spine I’ve grown, this voice, this heart,
this brain, all conspiring to make me use myself,
to be about something life-affirming and true.
Quiet women with steel spines taught me
to suffer much and laugh often, to pray
and endure and hope, women who pushed
boundaries without drawing fire.
Somehow I missed the lesson on avoidance,
for sometimes, I don’t want to exert myself.
I want to lie low, duck and cover, rely on
wishful thinking and let others lift and bear.
What I want and what I must hold hands
shaping me as they will, creating a me
I often do not wish to be, someone braver
than I am, someone willing to stand up
With a shuddering stomach and speak,
confront wrongs, negotiate peace, act,
risk everything, always afraid, but moved, led.
Sometimes I need a rest, a shoulder to lean on.
I don’t want to lead, for so often, glancing behind,
I see those who pushed me forward, far
in the distance, waiting, and I am alone,
a most reluctant leader, following my heart.
May 27th, 2012 at 9:44 PM
Be true to thyself!
How often others try to ‘form’ us to their ‘standards or thinking’ – but we are not they – It can be a hard lesson to learn – but so freeing once discovered. and with it comes the freedom to sometimes simple say ‘No’ – I am not from the south – but, I see so much of me in what you wrote.
Thank you for your beautifully put words.
May 28th, 2012 at 8:09 AM
Oh, yes!
May 28th, 2012 at 12:08 PM
Bravo, Jane. If we could all be this brave how great the world would be. Fabulous poem.
May 29th, 2012 at 12:55 AM
Thank you all so much for taking the time to encourage me and others here. I so appreciate it.
May 28th, 2012 at 10:46 PM
Oh Jane, that ending was amazing.
May 30th, 2012 at 12:40 AM
I sometimes wish I could suck it up and be this brave Jane and, from time to time, have pulled it off. But – the cost to someone who has learned some other, less noble truths, has been horrendous … I admire your courage tremendously. And your eloquent poem just sings …
May 27th, 2012 at 6:53 PM
Something Worthwhile
This battered heart
growing up
the hard way
learning to take
bruises and scrapes in stride
using these tears
to wash away the bad
clear out for the good
taking baby steps now
down the long and winding road
ran and fell enough
to learn that lesson
just want to finish the race
don’t have to be first
placing faith that
grace’ll get me though
and life will chisel
something worthwhile
out of me yet
May 27th, 2012 at 9:36 PM
I love the whole piece – it relates a lot
…tears to wash…
…baby steps….
…run and falll enough…
…faith that grace….
…life will chisel…
May 28th, 2012 at 8:11 AM
LOVED: “…placing faith that grace’ll get me through and life will chisel something worthwhile out of me yet” !!!
May 28th, 2012 at 12:10 PM
Both true and lovely.
May 30th, 2012 at 12:32 AM
So beautifully rendered this … “and life will chisel something worthwhile” – and possibly already has if you could just know it but it’s enough that you are pausing to take a breath and start again – eventually having faith and taking baby steps will help you know you are worthwhile … A good poem but I guess, the mother in me wants to tell you not to sell yourself short, you don’t have to wait to be chiselled out to be worthwhile … I’m not sure why I feel so strongly about this – it’s not like me. For all I know, your poem could be fictitious …
May 27th, 2012 at 7:41 PM
Journey
In the simple matter of two roads, diverging,
we flip a coin then stick together, dropping
bread crumbs, notching tree limbs,
just in case.
When I’m lost but you’re certain, I follow,
my smaller feet in your large prints,
and when I’m sure, I reach back, take
your hand and lead.
If no path lies before us, and if our journey
takes us new directions, we’ll travel side-
by-side, hand-in-hand, cautious but daring,
never alone.
N. Posey
May 27th, 2012 at 9:33 PM
That says so very much and holds together, is holding up in a wonderful way
May 28th, 2012 at 8:18 AM
Oh, I Love this, especially: “…and when I’m sure, I reach back, take your hand and lead.”!!!
May 30th, 2012 at 12:21 AM
How perfect a journey this details Nancy – as always your words are carefully chose, the lines just right … a lovely poem.
June 2nd, 2012 at 8:18 AM
Amen, Nancy. <3
meg
May 27th, 2012 at 8:26 PM
“We start and end with family.”
Anthony Brandt
“Outside IN”
I am paste—
on a plastic tab stuck to paper kangaroo
rear-ends.
I am band-aid—
on ripped scalp and wounded knee.
I am pink medicine and nebulizer tubing,
I am dandelion milk and clover-gemmed
forever I am—
soil•stone• soap•shore
•army men• pretend•hairspray•Amen.
I am collector—
of doubts and tears,
recorder of wasted brilliance.
I am stringer—
of hero’s•of prey•of vultures•of owls•of fire
I am outside-
IN
on a planet
scribbled
with
spit
and
crayons.
I am smile.
May 28th, 2012 at 8:21 AM
This is delightfully quirky!
May 28th, 2012 at 10:48 PM
jlynn, The words and rhythm are perfect together.
May 29th, 2012 at 1:44 PM
thank you.
May 30th, 2012 at 12:19 AM
You am wondrous, you am – thanks
May 27th, 2012 at 9:30 PM
You are beautifully discribed…
May 28th, 2012 at 12:26 AM
[...] flash mob all in one package! Also for “Strange Bedfellows” at Sunday Scribblings and “Walk of Life” at Poetic Bloomings. I don’t walk; I dance, and as for strange bedfellows, I thought it would be nice to have [...]
May 28th, 2012 at 12:36 AM
This one is for insane fun on my pathway!!! Love, Amy
The Last Time I Danced
Grocery store run
Jeans with a big raggy hole
where my knee protrudes
Tan sneaks with pink shoelaces
(no big panama with a purple hat band…
but then, that’s a long time ago)
Chugging along with a cart full of
healthy foods for our responsible diet
and in consideration that we are both
in our 50s now and then
over the intercom
“Dancin’ in the Street”
Martha and the Vandellas,
none of that Mick and whosis crap
Another woman looks at me from
the cereal section and then we both
lay excited eyes on a dude in
Harley jacket and old boots
trolling the Gatorade
Who’s on first?
As if you have to ask
I take the lead line, inciting the riot
The three of us break into song
and dance like the freaks we were
like the freaks we still are
with every ounce of hippie left in us
She’s showin her tat of Marley on her
left arm, he’s swappin a picture of Jesus
on the back of his neck and me, I got no marks
but smile lines chiseled on my cheeks
We’re reeling in total abandon and
oblivious to the folks at either end of the aisle
Even the vegetable guy left his post
And at the fadeout, we’re fading out too
back to our carts as though nothing happened
The other shoppers burst into applause
and we all run back together in the
middle of the aisle to take a bow and
hug each other like there’s no tomorrow
Haven’t seen them again
Perhaps we were all each other’s angels
if only for that moment
Reminders that you can always let that
freak flag fly high enough to glide
as long as you keep enough freak inside
© 2012 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
For dverse, who called for Carefree Hours, or the last time you did something out of pure delight. Also for Poetic Bloomings, “Walk of Life,” which is always bopping for me. And Sunday Scribblings, “Strange Bedfellows.” This is delight, rebellion, and a three-person unplanned flash mob all in one package! Peace, Amy
May 28th, 2012 at 8:25 AM
Smiles, tears, laughter….! I’m goin’ to YouTube to search for that song and I am gonna dance my morning workout to it! Thanks, so much for the fun start to my day!!!
!
May 30th, 2012 at 12:18 AM
Ah Amy – I hear the music and see you guys just rockin’ out and gettin’ your freak on at the grocery store and how lucky were they, those other customers? I bet they dined out on that story for weeks, probably still talk about that time those freaks got it on at the store and how great was that … you rock lady, always have, always will … so glad I get to read your work and hear how your life is unfolding …
May 28th, 2012 at 1:24 AM
Marie, your sonnet really touched my heart. This is an example of real love, shared by two who are meant to be together.
Walt, your journey is honest and unabashedly truthful about pain, as well as delivery from it.
Got us off to a good start, and thanks for the poems and the prompt! Amy
June 2nd, 2012 at 8:20 AM
Thank you, Amy. And yours is fun, fun, funfunfun! Thanks for the smiles!
meg
June 2nd, 2012 at 12:35 PM
la..la..la… “and she’ll have fun, fun, fun, til her Daddy takes the T-bird away…” The Beach Boys!!!
!!!
May 28th, 2012 at 6:32 AM
[...] México More Carry on Tuesday: “The Long and Winding Road” More Poetic Bloomings: “The Walk of Life” More Straight Out of the Camera Sunday More Shadow Shot Sunday 2 More Skywatch [...]
May 28th, 2012 at 6:35 AM
Walking can be wearisome, as I demonstrate in this senryu, “Weary Traveler.”
May 28th, 2012 at 7:20 AM
uhm, last-minute tune-in:
***
The walk of life lies
Beyond the pond of liking
Along my palm-line.
***
May 30th, 2012 at 12:13 AM
This is so simple and succinct and yet just perfect – I love how you sum it up wonderfully in the final line.
May 28th, 2012 at 7:51 AM
[...] New Mexico More Carry on Tuesday: “The Long and Winding Road” More Poetic Bloomings: “The Walk of Life” More Straight Out of the Camera Sunday More Mellow Yellow Monday More Haiku [...]
May 28th, 2012 at 9:15 AM
Sunday
Oh
bring me
out of this
prison. I have
patiently endured
scratching my calendar
sniffing the air for the hint
of honeysuckle and long grass.
Take off this shackle and let me run
great sweeping arcs of joy in the sunshine.
May 28th, 2012 at 11:32 AM
Oh, and when you do, you will feel Marvelous!!!!!!!!!
!
May 28th, 2012 at 9:16 PM
been spring here for a while, had the first hot weather this weekend, and it does do the soul good.
May 30th, 2012 at 12:11 AM
Sometimes winter can go on so long it begins to feel like that, I know Andrew – I sense your longing in every word and line – nicely done
May 28th, 2012 at 11:57 AM
Sometimes: A Muddled Journey
Sometimes I wonder
If I hear a different drummer
Or if that’s just the sound
Of the world’s trotting feet
One big step ahead of me.
Sometimes I wish
I was a little deaf
So I couldn’t hear
Those footsteps and
Their soulless beat.
Sometimes I follow
Knowing it’s the piper,
And other times
I’m hypnotized,
Trailing innocently.
Sometimes I stumble,
And there by the wayside
My muddled thoughts clear
And eventually I realize
I can’t follow anymore.
Sometimes I turn back,
Pushing against the flow,
Knowing it’s for the best,
But still not quite sure
Where it is I’m trying to go.
May 28th, 2012 at 9:18 PM
ah, the ebb and flow of life, sometimes we push, others pull. Well done.
May 28th, 2012 at 10:51 PM
The journey is the place. You captured it.
May 29th, 2012 at 7:03 AM
“…And other times I’m hypnotized trailing innocently…” Me too.
May 29th, 2012 at 3:41 PM
Thanks for all your kind comments! I truly appreciate the feedback.
May 30th, 2012 at 12:10 AM
I agree with the others – you’ve nailed the feeling of life’s flow here very well … way to go
May 30th, 2012 at 10:50 PM
Thanks!
May 28th, 2012 at 2:28 PM
Cavorting Balloons
Little cartoon balloons dance
in my head. A red one yells,
charge ahead! A blue one
blocks my movements,
submerged in water,
where I cannot hear
the green balloon, cheering
me on to grow and thrive.
Sometimes I survive. I do
not shrink, but grow no taller.
I followed paths of black
and white, conflicted
sights, not stopping to rest
in the shade of soft gray
mist, which might have made
me a better balanced person.
When I discovered the purple
balloon, I moved forward
into the lavender lights of life
where I could see the effects
my caring friendship had
on others, know the importance
and pleasure of that feeling.
Oh, the treasure of peace,
as I shed disappointment
and acquired self-respect,
realizing I am responsible
only for my own actions.
May 29th, 2012 at 7:08 AM
Oh, I just Loved where that purple balloon took you!!! And, “…Oh, the treasure of peace, as I shed disappointment and acquired self-respect, realizing I am responsible only for my own actions.” Beautiful truth!!!
May 29th, 2012 at 7:15 PM
Thanks, Hen!
May 30th, 2012 at 12:07 AM
So glad you found your real self in the many hues of purple Sara … it’s one of my favourite shades also – the colour of royalty and insanity(since so many royals of old intermarried, there is likely a link there!) This is a lovely poem.
May 30th, 2012 at 11:04 PM
Thanks, Sharon!
May 28th, 2012 at 3:22 PM
Discovering the She-Wolf
In the year every feather found meant
An angel was near or had just passed by
And the colour of the sky each morning
Held significant portent for the day ahead
She was selected to attend a conference
For leadership training and met with others
Of the same ilk at a modern college with dorms
And classrooms with tiered seating like movie houses
In a haze of appreciativeness and goodwill
She found she fit naturally into this atmosphere
And took to being a leader easily, not something
She had ever suspected in her whole life
When the facilitators ran a test to group
The various types of leaders together for exercises
She was further astonished to find herself
Labeled an alpha she-wolf, colour orange, take-charge
At first she protested the categorization
Unsure of the findings and herself
Until she realized as things got underway
Without quite knowing how or why she naturally
Assessed options and group feelings
As well as her own thoughts about choices
And practiced a gentle type of persuasion
She remembered using on her children
When they were young – and on their teachers
Come to that, and their parent-teacher boards
It came to her as she steered the others
Towards non-violent conflict resolutions
And consensus building agreements
That she had done this before – quite often
Walking back to her dorm at dusk
With the sky a promising shade of indigo
It occurs to her that while she’s never thought
Of herself as a leader, she’s never considered
Herself a follower either – maybe that makes
It easier to slip into this role, she really
Doesn’t know, will take it as it comes
S.E.Ingraham©
May 29th, 2012 at 7:14 AM
Just keep moving forward….
May 28th, 2012 at 3:27 PM
Will try to get back here later for commenting but wanted to say how much I live (and relate) to Mare Elena’s beautiful sonnet and as always, marvel at Walt’s piece – yes, the journey is long; some days it feels too much so and others, not long enough …
May 28th, 2012 at 9:10 PM
Love Realized
I have walked the long and winding road,
destination an afterthought,
led others, followed a few,
not aware of yearning
or the life not lived,
until I learned –
all for naught
without
you.
May 29th, 2012 at 1:15 AM
Intense.
May 29th, 2012 at 7:15 AM
Lovely.
May 29th, 2012 at 10:43 PM
Wonderful!!
May 28th, 2012 at 10:29 PM
Thanks so much for all the kind comments about my sonnet. It is my favorite form, yet I don’t often enough use it. I’ve said this so many times, but I create at a snail’s pace. I need to plan to really put in time to write a sonnet. For example, I have approximately two hours invested in “Elements of Design.” I wish I was able to think much faster.
Anyway, thanks again. You all lift my spirits!
Marie Elena
May 29th, 2012 at 12:20 AM
[...] Bloomings: The Walk of Life Prompt Share this:MoreLike this:LikeBe the first to like this [...]
May 29th, 2012 at 1:47 PM
The Road Ahead
My way leads farther than I care to go
I am not prepared to travel fast nor far.
We learn from what we find by moving slow
The fiery dance of leaves has turned to embers, low
Upon the ground, now all forgotten – bare
My way leads farther than I care to go.
Every naked tree is stripped to show
It skeletal arrangement, planned with care
I have tried to learn – the names are all I know
Let the wind embrace me, softly blow
Through the rising ashes, clean the air
My way leads farther than I need to go.
This season, diminishing sunlight, after glow
Must we regret the passing of the year?
What will I learn by moving onward, tired and slow?
Things fall away, I watch them as they blow
Where-ever the winds desire – through the air
My way leads farther than I care to go
I learn from what I find by moving slow.
May 30th, 2012 at 8:00 AM
….. I love this.
May 29th, 2012 at 10:41 PM
I wrote this poem last year, about some friends. I will try to post a new one soon. Great poems everyone. You are all amazing!!
SANDCASTLES OF OUR MINDS
I designed them and you painstakingly formed them
Into edifices, complete with turrets, flags, and moats.
We even won the contest for the most authentic.
Now the only castles we build are in our imaginations.
You don’t even recognize your queen anymore, and I
am sad at the ravages that Alzheimers has afflicted my king.
Oh, to be young again, sit at sunset and watch the tide
sweep away our castles, slowly and gently.
Perhaps we can sit on the balcony tonight and hold hands.
This may be the day you call me your queen again .
May 30th, 2012 at 7:55 AM
Ohh, so profoundly, sadly sweet… and true… I just Loved: “…Perhaps we can sit on the balcony tonight and hold hands…” When something like this happens to your Loved one, you begin to absolutely LOVE and appreciate those quiet, loving, unspoken connections that you will treasure for the rest of you life!!!
May 30th, 2012 at 9:38 AM
Behind the Scenes
I live my life in comfort
creeping behind the scenes.
I walk a quiet, joy filled life
living behind my screens.
I bird within a blind,
I shoot behind a lens,
I paint when I’m alone,
I write whenever I can.
But once or twice a year
I step out of the zone,
to face my one true fear
I speak, when not alone.
With microphone in hand
I share a bit of me –
of the things I do, write
and the things I may see.
And when that task is done,
I slip behind the scenes.
Looking to take my ease,
wearing my old blue jeans.
May 30th, 2012 at 11:52 AM
Oh, lovely!
May 30th, 2012 at 11:52 AM
Just Passing Through
It is me and me alone,
the one who erects the blockades
which impede the path to happiness,
to contentment.
I am my own guide,
divine my personal maps,
and place each step upon
the routes I choose.
They are my barriers and,
if I choose,
I am free to strike the match
which will remove them.
There was a me that went to war,
all thrumming energy,
rising above the cacophony,
struggling beneath the fear,
wishing mightily to be invisible,
yet finding myself in front,
the place called Point,
from another view, Target.
I put myself there,
the trace elements of ego
so visible in God’s microscope.
There was the me who lived to serve,
fulfilling plans long dreamed,
work a pleasure,
doubt an infrequent visitor,
leadership a requirement
if one would be the
hope of the world.
I mean, if you start out asking
how you can help,
you might as well dream big,
small thoughts only
blemishes on the experience.
Now there’s a more contemplative me,
striving still,
hating war as only a warrior will,
old from every viewpoint
except my 92-year old neighbor’s,
and I am yet unable to hide,
work which is wanted and needed
always seeming to find me,
and even though the monks say
it is all just chopping wood
and carrying water,
it feels bigger, somehow,
more urgent.
I think sometimes of a future me,
dwell occasionally on an un-me.
Once I saw that tunnel of light,
the one spoken by the near-dead.
I can’t recall if there’s a leader
in that picture, or if it could be me.
Some things simply remain a mystery.
May 31st, 2012 at 7:21 AM
Wow…! I have sometimes contemplated on an “un-me”; the mystery of it all is Fascinating!
June 1st, 2012 at 9:10 AM
thanks for saying this
June 1st, 2012 at 8:12 AM
This is such a touching and truthful stream of consciousness, Daniel.
I really was struck with the it’s in our own hands feeling of this portion:
“I am my own guide,
divine my personal maps,
and place each step upon
the routes I choose.”
Love how you stated this:
“the trace elements of ego
so visible in God’s microscope.”
This is striking:
“Now there’s a more contemplative me,
striving still,
hating war as only a warrior will,”
And to end with the mysterious tunnel!! Daniel, an amazing journey. Thank you so much for sharing this. Smiles to you!
June 1st, 2012 at 9:12 AM
you are always so generous…thank you…I hope you live to 150, since you have so much good to give to the world
June 1st, 2012 at 10:21 AM
You make being generous a joyful thing, Daniel. It’s always nice to be appreciated! I’ve been a little lagging in time to delve into reading and commenting the way I like to. If I take after my Grammy I have a long life ahead of me…she’s 87 spirited and strong!! Thank you, Daniel!!
May 31st, 2012 at 1:58 AM
[...] Poetic Bloomings: Prompt #57 Photo Credit: Matthias Clamer/Stone+/Getty [...]
May 31st, 2012 at 2:04 AM
Bubble Girl
By: Meena Rose
Smoke and ash and burnt flesh;
Relentless waves of agony as
Broken glass shreds feet.
Insanity, chaos and ruin
Rain down on ears deafened,
Howling shrieks of grief.
Ignored amidst the din, she vowed
She will not let anyone forget her again;
She shut the world out.
She walks alone neither alive nor dead;
Watching, seeking, judging -
Is it worthy of her return?
A butterfly lands on her nose
Passing on nature’s caress -
Yes, indeed, it is time to return.
http://meenarose.com/2012/05/30/prompted-wednesdays-flecks-specks-and-feet/
May 31st, 2012 at 7:14 AM
“…A butterfly lands on her nose Passing on nature’s caress – …” This is Lovely!
May 31st, 2012 at 7:24 AM
Thank you Henrietta!
June 1st, 2012 at 7:59 AM
Meena! My heartaches for this and then when hope comes I rejoice with you!! Well written!
June 1st, 2012 at 8:05 AM
Hannah, rejoice now… That butterfly showed up many years ago. Thank you.
June 1st, 2012 at 8:12 AM
So wonderful and so well done!!
May 31st, 2012 at 9:31 AM
Behind her is a winding trail
circuitous route
all but invisible beyond the last bend
no end in sight
(but that may change at any moment)
only a few stones
in her pocket, enough to get her to the next stop
two steps forward,
three left, one back, spin, pause, repeat
Honestly,
she has no idea where she is going
only imagines
when she arrives, she’ll know it
June 1st, 2012 at 7:57 AM
Oh, yes, that is so the way of it!! Captured creatively, Pamela!! Excellent penning!!
June 1st, 2012 at 9:16 AM
Oh, I just love: “… only a few stones in her pocket, enough to get her to the next stop… she has not idea where she is going only imagines when she arrives, she’ll know it.” She will KNOW it, yes.
June 1st, 2012 at 9:17 AM
“no idea”
June 1st, 2012 at 8:57 AM
Walking the Way
As a young man, I was angry
that I was learning everything the hard way.
I wanted some guidance, some warning
about the sharp turns in the road ahead.
I railed at everyone around me,
frustrated that I had no road map,
until I began to understand that I had the tools
I needed to make my own way.
I began to draw and write,
crude at first, without a doubt,
but it was my map, and it was enough,
and more, it empowered me to be me.
I’m still unfolding that map today,
fleshing out details here, looking fondly
on areas I no longer walk, as well as
all the new spaces, ever expanding.
Doubt drives me still, so I check
the map often to be sure I’m on track.
And I’ve let go of the anger at myself
when I find myself off the path.
Some days, the map folds up neatly,
the creases aligning, beauty like origami.
Other days, I fold it the wrong way,
and struggle to make it pocket-size again.
And on the occasional day, it’s a prop
for a bit of sleight of hand.
You may not know where it is,
because I misdirected you, but I know.
And now I wonder: will my sons want
me to give them a road map?
Or will they make their own metaphor?
It’s this big blank space right here.
I’ll give them more guidance than I got,
but I won’t be upset when they ignore me.
It will be their map that they’re writing
and drawing on – and walking and dancing.
I’ll give them a map and suggest some places
to begin, but then I’ll cede control,
and tell them it’s okay to be off the path,
as long as you’re still on the map.
Richard
June 1st, 2012 at 9:13 AM
Oh, so……. YES!!!!!
June 1st, 2012 at 9:34 AM
[...] you lead, or follow, or a bit of both? Visit Poetic Bloomings to read what our hosts say and to read their poems in response to the prompt. Do not miss the [...]
June 1st, 2012 at 11:23 AM
[...] Poetic Bloomings Prompt #57 – “The Walk of Life” Share this:TwitterFacebookLike this:LikeBe the first to like this post. Posted in: Uncategorized [...]
June 1st, 2012 at 9:24 PM
To A Different Cadence
We march to our own beat,
the sweet syncopation that drives
every step; adept at keeping your feet
when others about you are losing their heads.
The pipes blare and wail; a tale told in the hold
of a Celtic clutch and in as much, deeply.
The snap of snare is crisp and a wisp of generations
lives within it. You didn’t begin it, but carry
the torch of your clan and your kin.
Your pace is halting but sure,
and you’re raising your banner high,
a sky full of past and an earth full of futures
converge in the present to give the gift
that life possesses. A different drum;
a heart in living rhythm.
June 2nd, 2012 at 6:32 AM
Yes, so true!
June 1st, 2012 at 12:36 PM
Imago Dei
The moon has not light of its own,
Merely a reflection of the sun.
We are crafted in much the same way;
Creator made us like him they say.
Any goodness and light you see in me,
Is a beam passed from He who is eternity.
Follow me as I follow Him is my motto.
Shine in other’s lives like a light on grotto.
(Imago Dei is Latin for image of God)
June 1st, 2012 at 12:53 PM
Wow. Amen, and beautifully penned.
Marie Elena
June 2nd, 2012 at 6:30 AM
Yes.
June 2nd, 2012 at 9:33 AM
Wonderful prompt! Please visit my poem “Efficacy” at http://susanspoetry.blogspot.com/2012/05/efficacy.html
June 2nd, 2012 at 12:53 PM
Wow!!! This piece reached in a grabbed a hold of my heart and soul. (And my warmest blankets are Blue
! ) Thank you for posting this!
June 3rd, 2012 at 11:23 AM
Thank you for visiting me, Henrietta! (and thank you for exposing your heart and soul!)
June 2nd, 2012 at 2:41 PM
What a delightful prompt and what wonderful poems! I don’t have time for anything new today, but this limerick from earlier this year is sort of related:
Leading With Limericks
By Madeleine Begun Kane
A fellow was trying to lead,
But his rumba was not up to speed.
His steps got all tangled,
His partner’s feet mangled.
I’m guessing that’s why he was kneed.
Leading With Limericks
June 2nd, 2012 at 2:59 PM
Mad Kane! Hahahahaha … absolute perfection! Thanks for the grins, and SOOOOOOOOO great to see you blooming in our garden!!
Marie Elena