Life With Horace

poetry & essays


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opaque dawn

light lies flat and gray behind my pines
no emerging blue with morning star
nor sailing clouds with rosy blotted core
a morning to rejoice because it’s mine
and I am able to give voice

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a shortling gift from an early morning, with gratitude for another day.

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speaking of gratitude

in early morning dark
approaching solstice,
thoughts clearing slowly,
a morning mist, awareness
spurs coherent thought
of thanks
for yet another day
to find myself alive,
no matter winter ice,
thoughts left over
and undone tasks,
certain that
joy will always rise
behind the pines
with the sun if asked,
serenity will be granted
if prayed for, even in
an unexpected form,
and now, prepared,
my soul is glad
to greet the sun

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this morning’s freezing rain reminds me to be grateful nevertheless, a bit perverse I suppose. the roosting birds to the left are mourning/morning doves. 18 days to the solstice!

the dogs on the ferny path 9-17-14


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the presence of gifts

my list is long today
and gratitude a living thing,
with thanks this morning
I begin again,
and marvel at the magic of
this year so richly lived.
strong arms of love
encircling the night,
to hold my spirit close and safe.
the gift of children,
essence of my soul alive
in generations made from love.
sisters, brothers, cousins
now become the elders
drawing closer, wisdom’s harvest.
friends of many years
and those more newly met
all precious links
to memory and heart

a time of growth,
and unexpected joy
tapped from an unseen well,
welcome, cherished, fed
by wonder, Open eyes,
encouragement and friendship,
kindred links though loose,
their potency holds true.
connection with
things seen and not,
humbled by belief at last,
feeling nature’s voice
run through my blood,
trying for acceptance
of the path I follow,
learning from the way behind,
with kinder eyes
and gentler thought
for my mis-steps.
facing out to grasp
with ready hands
this miracle
that is my life

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birthdays have always held magic for me. today is no exception. while not a lover of new year’s resolutions, I do believe in taking stock and giving thanks.


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showers

this morning I wake up to rain
with tear-dense clouded skies,
and feel as though I’ve slept in vain

not sleepy, no, just heavy eyes
a heart that lightens more each moment,
slowly I begin to move, first thoughts like sighs

today, a gift, is mine, sufficient,
hoping for some joy, I know its feel
certain that I’m not omniscient

but richer both in spirit and in will

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15th day poetry prompt, a terza rima. I am not comfortable with rhyme, but getting there.