Last Day of March/the suday whirl and The Muse #49/The Blue Butterfly

Last Day of March

The morning cloudy
But not the kind of day
Not one cloud in the sky
Instead no clouds are visible

Rather more overcast
The sky a solid grey
Snow is predicted
Last day of March

My wish is that, it will be the last day of snow
For I have seen enough snow for one year
My spirit longs for the new green of spring
Yet, the morning carries a strange chill

Each season has its’ own rewards
Soon enough, there will be
The smell of roasting chili peppers
And the voices of the people

Singing sacred songs
The beat of the drums
Will all mix with the clear mountain air
The alchemy of place

Reminding me of where I am
Perched on the mesa
Living a life
Following a path

Under the nighttime moon
This path was set before
At the very beginning
The history of Taos is rich

March 31, 2019
Wordle 396: 

The Muse #49

The Blue Butterfly

Someone has painted your face

The colors blue and red

The butterfly rests upon your lips

For you cannot speak

Filled with secrets

Cannot say, what is on your mind

The butterfly is the lock

Without a key

You stare right at me

Never blink

A confrontation
As if you are casting blame

It was not me!

Who painted your face
Nor placed the butterfly

Over your mouth

To stifle your truth

March 31, 2019

Blue is Lonely/imaginary gardens with real toads

Blue is Lonely

The Universe

The plants and planets

Seas and sky

The all of it…

Best viewed at night

The stars to see

As they sparkle

Each with its’ own name

The name of an ancestor

Glory be

A twinkle to make a wish on

For baby and me

Give us this day

Our daily bread

Send up smoke signals

Keep in touch

So many questions

Without answers

Yet new theories

Come each day

Blue is lonely

So far away

Sing your little song

Put the candle in the window

Find your way home

The first day of April

April fools day 

For when she is the fool 

She is no longer alone

March 30, 2019

The Silence is Broken/imaginary gardens with real toads

 The Silence is Broken           

In the shadows of the late afternoon

The silence is broken

By the sound of church bells

Calling all to worship

It has been centuries

Though it seems much longer

Once we were inseparable

Your chair remains empty

A careless word spoken

An unkind phrase

Can give rise

To a darkness immune to light

Sugar and spice can make everything nice

March is closing its' door

And the month of the fool begins

Teasingly the temperature drops

Reminding me of the winter

That is now over

The summer promises to be kind

One day follows another

March 29, 2019

Note:  These are the words I have chosen from the list:  shadows, afternoon, centuries, March, teasingly.

She Shares my Solitude/poets united midweek motif/Solitude

She Shares my Solitude

I am a morning person

When the sun comes up

To greet me with its’ sparkles

I am waiting

Anxious to begin my day

The light attends slowly

Creating shadows

Under each sage brush

A small coyote

Appears and disappears

In the low brush of the mesa

She is always here

Sometimes I forget to look for her

And she passes quietly

Without notice

Going about her business

It is spring

She has two pups to feed

We live side by side

She doesn’t know I am here

She walks in solitude

I am in solitude, too

Happy to have her here

A small bit of wildness

March 27, 2019

The Moon Controls the Tides/ the sunday whirl

The Moon Controls the Tides

A life as unique
As the one who lives it
Even days which begin cloudy
Turn out to be like no other

We never know what might be around the corner
Life is such a curious mixed bag
The sweetness of an early spring morn
And the hot of a Hatch chili pepper

Perfectly formed
The alchemy of the two
Mixed by folding in lightly
Results melt on the tongue

The last few days have been the first days of spring
The early mornings begin with a chill in the air
The sun rises and warms the heart
There are new blades of green grass in the fields

If I listen carefully
I can hear them sing their funny little grass songs
Last night the moon so bright
It appeared like the noonday sun

The moon’s pull controls the tides
The waves swell and crash ashore
One after the other
My spirit walks the beach alone

March 24, 2019

The Principle of Peter or the Orange Man/dVerse

The Principle of Peter or The Orange Man

In the East

The clouds are thick 

Over the mountains

In the West the skies clear

A silvery blue

Lights the world

All is quiet

Most still curled in their beds

Each morning

The question appears

What will this day bring?

Our leader a buffoon

Will the truth be revealed?

Will the report be given?

He squirms like a worm

Trying to get back under his rock

His appearance is that of a little boy

Caught with his hand in the cookie jar

He doesn’t fool many

He performs in broad daylight

It is as if he doesn’t know

He is a perfect example of white privilege

Lacks understanding 

Can we say?

“Father, forgive him, he knows not….”

March 22, 2019

Empowering the Self/poets united midweek motif/Empowerment

Empowering the Self

You have no control

Over what other people think

Only control over what you think

And you have set your goals high

Higher than any clown can fly

Even the trapeze artist

Can only fly so high

How do we empower ourselves?

Such a big question

Each time we hit a pothole

We vow we will be more careful next time

But sometimes there are more potholes than road

Still maybe it has to do with our own thoughts

Have we prepared?

Have we learned from the past?

Have we stated our goals clearly?

Have we looked carefully at your goals?

Set new goals more appropriate for the current time?

Revision may be needed

Still it is: desire, determination, and discipline

Perhaps the desire and determination are there

But the hard one is discipline

And this is where most fail

It is only if we “stop,” that we fail

March 21, 2019

Each Has His Own Path/imaginary gardens with real Toads

Each Has His Own Path

Each has a path of his own

It is not for me to say

What is right and what is wrong

And yet…I see the plants closing

The loss of jobs

I see the ones who only kneel

Before wealth and power

I see the evidence of

Climate Change

I see the storms

The floods

The water rising

I see what they want to do

In secret

I see the high prices

I know there are hungry children 

The world is changing fast

I see people pushed out

Left to die, sick and lonely

I am touched by the homeless

The ones who have lost hope

The sign she holds

“Mom with children, out of work”

March 19, 2019

Climate Change/the sunday whirl

Climate Change

Each wave unique
Like the first
Of its’ kind
To come ashore

I read your writing
Fires are lit
In the silence
Of an empty beach

Empty as far as I can see
Dark clouds gather
Rain begins to fall
Soaks the earth

And the garments I wear
The moisture is welcome
For it has been three years
Since the last rainfall

This spring will be greener
Sunbeams shine through the raindrops
The world sparkles
In gratitude

March 17, 2019

Tick Tock, Tick Tock/dVerse -- Pantoum

Tick Tock, Tick Tock

Because life is cyclical

It often seems we have seen it before

Been there before

Heard it before

It often seems we have seen it before

Time repeats over and over

We have heard it before

Never knowing the beginning or ending

Time repeats over and over

Tick tock, tick tock

Never knowing the beginning or ending

Life is like the alligator who swallowed the clock

Tick tock, tick tock

The sounds are clear as he approaches

Tick tock, tick, tock

Nearer and nearer

Tick tock, tick tock

Each year we celebrate the same old holidays

Tick tock, tick tock

The year begins with New Year’s Day

Tick tock, tick tock

The year ends with New Year’s Eve

Tick tock, tick tock

The same with each day and each week

Life slips through the hourglass

The past dissolves

The future is now

Tick tock, tick tock

March 16, 2019

Each Day of the Week, Has it's Own Question/imaginaary gardens with real toads

Each Day of the Week, Has its’ Own Question

Perhaps each day has a question

For us to ponder

On Sunday 

It might be asked

Is it the first of the week or the last?

And on Monday 

What does this week hold for me?

Or… What do I hold for this week?

On Tuesday I might ask

Who will go to the store this week?

The cupboard is bare

The children are hungry

Wednesday comes with its’ question

How will we fill our days?

Thursday will ask

How are you doing with the list?

Will this week be long enough?

Friday, I ask, How could it be Friday again…already?

Saturday, the week is slipping away

And I ask, Where are you going?

It seems I hardly know you

And on Sunday, the questions are repeated

March 14, 2019

A Poem is Like Picking Blackberries/poets united midweek motif/neighbors

A Poem is Like Picking Blackberries

I gather words 

Like picking blackberries

Reaching for the best ones

In early summer

What is the meaning 

Of this collection of words

They can’t be used for making jam

Instead I seek the words of the heart

I have lived in the West

For many years

There is a certain 

“Live and let live,” here

It is not that I don’t like my neighbors

Simply different people

With different lives

I a hermit

No hanging over the back fence

No gossip to exchange

A life of devotion

A life of dedication

Time is the essence of my life

So much to do

So little time

I have to be careful of what I choose

March 12, 2019

No Longer Free/the sunday whirl

No Longer Free

Is it all just a prank or caper
This thing called life
Suddenly there is pain in my hip
Which runs down my leg

It feels better when I rub it
I am making a passage
Into old age
I’ll have to pick up the pace

There will be a new plan
Of stretches and exercise
My instinct is to rest
As the pain is excruciating

Like a Voodoo doll
Stuck with a thousand pins
I am not the only one in constant pain
So many others

Using a walker
No longer free
Chained to a helping device
The bar has been raised

March 10, 2019


Wordle 394:  Caper, prank, leg, rub, passage, pace, plan, instinct, stick, other, chain,  bar       

  

"Out of Reach"/imagianary gardens with real toads

“Out of Reach”

Space as far as I can see

And further

I imagine the cosmos

And the distance of infinity

The words are simple

Yet, hard to get one’s brain around

I am a gormless slow-wit

Like molasses dripping slowly from the bottle

How far is infinity?

How big? 

How wide?

The answer is illusive

I am brain-dead

Flat lined

My head is filled with hot air

Maybe I am dead?

March 9, 2019

A Rock Garden (or The Wisdom of the Stones)/imaginary gardens with real toads

A Rock Garden (or The Wisdom of the Stones)

Having trouble breathing in

A most basic function of being alive

Amazing how when something happens

We automatically inhale

It isn’t something we plan

It is just something that happens

And it happens over and over

Often, we put our hand to our mouth

I don’t garden anymore

I am too successful with weeds

And it hurts my back to pull them

And it is hard to be happy with a garden full of weeds

One year ago

I had two young men

Convert my garden into a rock garden

And now I hear the rocks chatting

Hard to have my own thoughts

With all the clamor

The rocks themselves

Are ancient old

And have much to say

They really don’t care if you listen

For they will speak

And they will speak over each other

They have much to say

In the quiet of the day

Talking, talking, talking

It is for us to listen

March 7, 2019

Time/dVerse

Time

We schedule our lives around it

Though Einstein said, it is not what you think it is

We can’t hold it in our hands

We can’t reverse it

We can’t see it as it passes quietly

We can’t taste it

We can’t smell it

Though it is with us always 

We can’t go back in time

But, sometimes we are stuck there

We ask, what time is it

We are told, it is a time for us

We wear a watch on our wrist

Carry one in our pocket

Sometimes it passes slowly

Sometimes it flies

One day we wake

And are surprised

Like Rip Van Winkle

Many years have passed

One day, not too long ago

We were only beginning the journey

And now, it is almost over

Perhaps we only mark time

Never really experience it

February 6, 2019

February 6, 2019

Waiting/imaginary gardens with real toads Tuesday platform

Waiting

I wait quietly

Waiting for the words to flow

They come in stops and starts

No connection

I am aware the room is hot

Too hot

Turn down the thermostat

Open the door

Fresh air rushes in

Brings new thoughts

Hard to see the forest for the trees

Sometimes we are so focused on one thing

Impossible to see anything else

Even when it is right before us 

You say, maybe it isn’t “right,”

But offer no alternative 

One is left uncertain

The path ahead is the only road visible

There may be other ways 

But the path is overgrown

Brambles block the way

…Still I wait

February 5, 2019

Hope/ the sunday Whirl

Hope

We talked long into the night
Is it hope?
That ushers in disappointment
Unrealistic expectations

I will make a note to myself
To delete hope
I will walk through fire
Not because “I hope” I can

Instead, because I can…
As soon as I make this declaration
I catch myself “hoping” again
Always hoping things will be better

Truth is sometimes lost
In a sea of lies
Spouted by a “liar and chief”
His words corrupt

He is smug
Mocks everyone
He was born for the role
A man of destiny

I will send a memo
To myself
To remember
To forget “hope”

February 3, 2019

The Temple/imaginary gardens with real toads

The Temple by Tomasz Zaczeniuk Used with permission @fotowizjer

The Temple

Where sacred things

Are kept

Where each seeker finds

What is sacred only to him 

On the outside of the temple

There are figures carved

Hard to read

From where I stand

A little window 

At the top of the temple

Opens to the room where

Rapunzel is held prisoner

A man appears

Asks her to let down her hair

She does

He climbs to her window

Through the window he steps into her room

He appears as a witch

He falls in love with the beautiful Rapunzel

But, since he looks like the witch

Rapunzel is afraid

And seeing this

He again appears as himself

The young prince

As most fairy tales go

Like the hero’s quest

There is much to overcome

But in the end…

They all live happily ever after

This is the rub

Life does not follow the fairy tale 

We don’t all live happily ever after

And when the story reaches its’ end

And nothing is to come after

Life still goes on

Embracing all that is good and...all that is bad

March 2, 2019