August 2022 17’s

 

Seventeen each day,

I’m poetry in action.

There is rhythm there.

Yes, time might be short

but there is still no such thing

as too many books.

We’re not all alike.

Lemons float while most limes sink.

Be kind to sinkers.

Peace lives in my heart.

It’s always a part of me.

It can’t be destroyed.

I live to see them,

small amounts of pure beauty.

God’s gifts to us all.

“Why me?” doesn’t help.

A better choice might just be:

“What can I do now?” 

I plan for what’s next 

but try not to fret on it.

What will be will be.

You can try to shame,

or you can lead with your love.

It’s always your call.

Friends appreciate 

you reaching out to them now

more than you might think.

The shape of a mind

depends upon whose it is.

For me, serpentine.

A Venn diagram:

Love, gratitude, hopefulness…

Humble arises. 

I’m seventy-eight

now, let me elaborate,

my life is just great.

I have loved my life,

and it has loved me right back,

as I live in joy.

I cast my net wide,

go forward with hopefulness,

expect only good.

It’s an honor, such

a blessing, to know people

throughout a lifetime.

I’m comfortable 

because I chose harmony

with Spirit itself.

I notice how life

does support me when I make

choices consciously. 

Love with abandon,

contribute to a nicer,

friendlier world.

I cooperate

with my own healing and find

that it really helps.

I enjoy my own 

company, sitting, pausing,

immersed in no thoughts.

I am a candle

which cannot be extinguished.

I’m a lightworker.

Why do I say no

when yes would serve me better?

Mysterious, huh?

Every poem I write

stems from living, reading and

really listening.

I do what I can 

to not make my mind a foe,

tell it of my heart.

Teachers change our lives.

We should conspire to aid and 

better abet them.

Do be an artist.

Yes, be a kindness artist.

Paint that picture now.

Future’s on the way,

so why not assume the best?

We can make it so.

If my faith depends 

on approval from others,

it’s too small for me.

When things get too hard,

as they sometimes do for me,

ask if it’s worth it.

It takes faith and skill

to trust in the unknowing.

Just sit with the flow.

Time can’t be trusted.

Young, it is forever’s start.

Old, much the same thing.

A poem for Dennis

 My Passing Friend

It was natural and easy

to tell him how I felt

after he had lain ill before,

after my own infirmity 

made us partners again. 

It’ll be harder now,

but not impossible.

Still, it’s been but a short while 

and I am already losing that smile,

the truth of his gaze,

the wonder of his face.

So I will write of him when I can,

tell others about a good man,

in this way perhaps I’ll let

myself never forget.

Independence Day

 “Ram, Ram”, he said,

said it aloud,

“Ram”, the Hindu

word for God.

Non-violent leader

of a violent nation,

shot dead by a fanatic

in a railway station.

Shot three times

in his stomach and chest,

independence would follow,

but you know the rest.

He had fasted, walked freely,

aware of the danger,

yet he died with a smile,

no hatred, no anger.

His hands in front of him,

prayerful and steady,

“Ram, Ram”, he said,

“God, God”, he was ready. 

Shore Lines

 Impossible to resist,

the looking back,

thinking about change,

the passing of time,

merely a human tack.

Wondering about our lake,

a blessing in the dog days of summer,

those Midwest days from June to September,

when there was no A/C to crank up,

just a small fan. Remember?

Is it still a playground without toys,

loved by local girls and boys?

No matter one’s age

one can’t forget the days,

the excitement when we’d awaken,

the unfettered joys,

shared with friends

that time has taken.

Nothing too grand, 

yet all of it magical,

our days and nights at our lake,

on our families’ shores,

the warmth of the sun,

the youthful camaraderie.

Even more appreciative now of

what was in our hearts.

Those summer nights

under the stars,

the sights and sounds,

the Northern Lights.

Still filled with crickets, 

owls and fireflies?

Mothers calling? 

Children whispering, telling lies?

Pretending we couldn’t hear them,

our mothers, all of them,

sitting, listening to the gentle waves

lapping at the shore,

just wishing we never had to leave our beach,

never, not ever,

not knowing then we just wanted

to stay young and happy, evermore.

July 2022 17’s

I begin each day

by linking up with Spirit,

enjoying coffee.

Being forgiving

releases me from my most

negative thinking.

Sensibly humble,

I am but a single drop

in a large ocean.

When the new doc said

you have cancer, I said I 

live in grace, am blessed.

My light brightens lives,

moves others to share their lights.

I’m a Lightworker.

Walking the pathway

of love always leads me to

fabulous outcomes.

Each day can be a

fun-filled adventure, or one

lazy on the couch.

I’m worthy of love,

not too quick to blame myself.

I’m gentle with me.

When I clear clutter,

I feel more relaxed, calmer.

My mind is unbound.

There’s one perfect life.

I know that life is Gods’s life.

That life’s my life now.

Saw my photograph.

I don’t think that’s really me,

just my container.

Flexibility 

is not just a body thing.

It’s an attitude.

My Friends are precious,

a loved, special family,

always in my heart.

Spreading the best vibes,

addicting folks to the Good,

I’m a hope dealer. 

If it’s not the home

sweet home I was expecting,

I need to adjust. 

I meditate, breathe,

feeling the divinity,

in touch with my joy.

My growth continues,

more self-aware with each day,

more light in my mind.

When I’m too revved up,

it helps to take deep, slow breaths,

knowing all is well.

Sometimes I am like

an old dog running full speed

into the darkness.

My dreams are products

of rich imagination,

vivid, active, wild.

Some fresh ideas

are quite uncomfortable,

so I trust in faith.

It’s a useful tool,

the simple act of pausing,

calms what happens next. 

Find the child in you 

when adulting is too much.

Aim to be playful. 

Failure to forgive

keeps me from knowing the truth. 

Forgiveness frees me. 

Living well with grace,

when I can be of service,

my life is richer. 

I care for the earth

with fond appreciation, 

also with respect. 

If hurt comes today,

I will pause, take a breath and

share the best of me. 

I allow my heart 

a massage of  gratitude.

The rest of me sings

I find peace being

one with all people, aware 

I truly belong. 

I have great power 

and can be a force for good,

wisely and with faith. 

As I’ve aged, I’ve learned

to not only seek myself,

simply be myself.

Choose Life

 

“To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance.”

• Oscar Wilde

Life Lessons 

I start each day with quiet time,

the mistakes of youth no longer mine,

connecting with my true life source,

and a poem will come, my own, of course.

If my to-do list gets too loud, too long,

overcrowding life with musts too strong,

or my inbox screams for quick returns,

I calm myself, for this I’ve learned,

at this age It’s too late to be late,

most outside demands can usually wait.

If the demands are real, legitimate musts,

I might seek help from one I trust,

but first I’ll use my quiet time,

reminded youth’s no longer mine,

reconnect to my spiritual force,

and a poem will come, my own, of course.

June 2002 17’s

 

I can do a lot,

that which is mine to do well.

First I aim, then act.

I don’t mind my dreams.

Sometimes they help plan my day,

energize my hopes.

Today I plan to

let love flow. I have enough

Good to pass around.

I’ll forgive today,

knowing I’ll need to do it,

again and again.

My talents are put

to best use when I share them.

Sharing is a joy.

Imagination 

lifts me, fills me with hopeful 

possibilities.

Encouraging praise

lifts one up much higher than

criticism does.

How can one maintain 

a positive attitude?

Just stay committed.

It takes the courage

and strength of a warrior 

to ask for some help. 

It’s not important 

to always know how or why,

simply see the truth.

There are so many

ways to become beautiful,

loving the best of them.

Wee birds in a nest,

mom and dad feeding them still.

Faith in the future.

Imperfection is

a fact of life, at least it

is in my own life.

Seeing all discord

as an opportunity

can lead one to calm.

No comparisons.

They don’t have to measure up.

My Friends are unique.

Like the times, I change,

though throughout my many years,

Spirit is constant.

The one phrase I hope

to remember frequently:

May I be of help?

Sharing brings me joy.

I share my prosperity 

however I can.

My prayers are about

holding others in my heart,

seeing them all loved.

As my day begins,

I see opportunity 

to find joy, laughter.

Healing is outward,

the power of it inward.

It’s all in the mind.

I see it’s all Good,

thankful for all my teachers,

whose bright lights still shine.

I look and I see.

Sometimes I look and don’t see.

See what I’m saying?

It happened to me?

Nope, it just happened for me.

Living and learning.

Today I focus

on what is in my power,

my thoughts and feelings.

Trees tremble in fear,

Earth’s fever draining its lakes,

spring lambs stay sleeping.

When you love someone,

there’s no need to do the math.

No calculating.

I have prepped the soil,

pulled the weeds, planted the seeds.

Now it’s time to bloom.

I am most present

when I’m giving my whole heart

to what I’m doing.

I’m not an artist,

but see a lot to word-paint 

nearly everyday.