Category Archives: poetry

Sorting Glass — A Poem

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I’ve turned my energies to poetry for a while, as I take a two-week challenge from The Daily Post. I didn’t write this poem for the challenge, but was reminded of it, so I thought I’d share it here:

Sorting Glass

Sorting stained glass into bins,
careful lest I cut myself.
How does one parse the spectrum of light
into specific and separate boxes?

Blue or green?
Translucent or opaque?
Flashed? Rolled? Blown? 
It even defies the line 
between solid and liquid.

Can’t mold it into endless shapes,
like a potter fondling clay on a wheel.
Can’t sand it smooth like a choice piece of wood,
and wipe the fine dust away with gentle strokes.

No. It’s cold and rigid and sharp and brittle.

But when the light finds it,
it warms and dances and morphs 
into myriad shapes and textures and nuances
that no other medium can rival. 
It comes alive. 

It brings me to life.
And as I sort it into bins,
being careful not to cut myself,
I feel its pulse in time with mine.

m3

Sacrifice

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sacrifice

The sun eases into the molten lava of the evening sea,
a willing sacrifice to the gods of time.
The glorious sky imprints its beauty on my eyes and in my mind,
branding its memory as a tribute to this time, this place,
even though it will eventually fade to a translucent wisp.

This evening’s fog bank advances toward shore,
emboldened by the cover of darkness as the sea
cools back to a rolling field of blue.
Feeling the dampness on my skin,
I am reminded of a parallel fog whose ghostly folds
enwrap my brain, hiding memories,
while day by day, sunset by sunset,
my sentience becomes
a sacrifice to the gods of time.

It’s comforting in a way,
how life’s pains soften and worries ebb.
But it’s also sad as I lose my past,
and forget how to do even the simplest of things.
And forget the names
and faces
of my children.

As the sun rests on the ocean floor
awaiting its turn to emerge into tomorrow’s dawn,
I wonder if it, too, feels comforted,
by the cool serenity of the water’s depths.
I wonder when I will emerge again,
and in what form.

But for now, I turn my back to the sea
and retreat to firmer ground
knowing that the fog is not far behind.

In memory of my father (1922-2012)Scan0001 (2)

Spelling it Out

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Assignment #3. Prompt: Trust. Form: Acrostic. Device: Internal Rhyme.

Many think acquisition is what it’s about,

Affirmational memes that give wishes more clout.

No blindered belief can create from thin air.

Intention sows seed, to be tended with care.

Fruits borne of our actions are all ours to keep,

Evinced in the fraction of harvest we reap.

Squander your limited time if you wish.

Tell the Universe what’s on your magic wish list.

I‘ll trust that the Universe knows what is best,

Not putting the forces of ego to test;

Giving thanks for whatever my life manifests.

Manifest