I Wonder

This poem is a collaboration with Melissa Tibbs. I am thankful for her insight in recording these thoughts as we traveled in our bus all over the countryside.

I wonder...

Who the cows belong to

Who cares for the wandering goats

What life is like on the mountain

When the school gate will open to the students

How the lady balances such a load on her head,
When I cannot balance a book

How many times they walk to the water pump in one day

How much it costs to ride a tap-tap

How much gas is and why it is all full service

If there are rabies clinics

Who lives behind all those tall gates

What it would be like to ride a tap-tap

Where all the shoes and suitcases for sale come from

What the man in the ravine is bending over to pick up

How long it took to rebuild roads after the earthquake

What Simone would do if she saw all this trash

What the man sitting with his chin in his hand
Is thinking as he looks out at the ocean

If the Haitian people realize how beautiful their country is

How life is better in Haiti than in Dunlap

How far the lady on the donkey must ride

If the mother of the club-footed girl will ever return for her

How I will ever be the same after this trip

In Memoriam

Prompt: write a poem that is an elegy (eulogy).

When I got this prompt I didn't have any idea how I could make this work until we left the mission partner today. We drove past a cemetery where the founder was buried, so here is my elegy.

We honor your memory today,

Dear Gretchen.

You who left home and comfort

After God radically changed your heart.

You made the remote hills of Haiti your home

And brought the Kingdom of God down

To the people of this village

In the most tangible ways,

And your work continues

Through the lives of your children

And grandchildren.

What a mother you must have been

To inspire your children

To continue your legacy!

I never knew you, Gretchen,

But today I honor you,

And look forward to the day

I will meet you on the other side.

Open for Business

We traveled the roads today,
Windows down,
Breeze barreling through,
Fumes rising,
Horns honking.
No stop signs or traffic lights,
Only the occasional traffic cop.
The bigger vehicle wins every showdown.
People lining every avenue in brightly colored garb--
School children in their uniforms,
Street vendors selling everything
From jugs of gasoline
To bottled water
(And I use that term loosely).
People jammed in "tap-taps"(taxis)
Named Merci Jesus (Thank you, Jesus)
And "Victoire (Victory) in Christ".
The Anges de Ciel (Angels of Heaven)
Funeral Parlor opened its doors at 10:00.
People were in line for lottery tickets
At the Pere Eternale (Eternal Father) Depot
And for bread at the
Blood of Jesus Boulangerie (bakery).
The Dix (Ten) Commandments Dry Cleaner
And the Volonte de Dieu (Will of God) Dry Cleaner
Were vying for customers,
While others made their way into
Izi Cutz (Easy Cuts) Barbershop.

Everything was open for business
In Port-au-Prince today.

In Haiti

In Haiti
The problems are so big...
Poverty
Natural disasters
Corruption
Environmental issues

They seem too big to solve.

Like a mouse eating an elephant--

Impossible.

But if the mouse tackles the elephant
One bite at a time
It could happen.
The impossible could come to pass.

And so it is with Haiti.

One problem at a time,
One person at a time,
Bite after bite,
Things can change.

With God all things are possible.

Life of a Fisherman

Today's prompt is very strange.  It is about erasure (what you leave out).  Here is my best attempt at this technique.  Weird I know.

look 

below the surface       a 

different world 

tuned in 

look                             the Lake                                  Swallows

Geese 

But below the surface 

dark and mysterious 

Drama                                                 happens

conflict 

fisherman       tuned in

look out from our boat                       activity                        swoop and skim 

fly by, honking 

Waves rise and fall 

different world                                                                                   Atlantis

life or death 

conflict                                                eat                              eat 

eat                               life of the fisherman 

the waves

As we look out from our boat the Lake is full of activity.  Swallows swoop and skim the surface of the water.  Geese fly by, honking, while a gander and his mate herd their little goslings along the shore.  Waves rise and fall and lap against the rocks.  But below the surface there is a completely different world, dark and mysterious.  A hillbilly version of Atlantis sits complete with barns and wells, fences and old plows. Drama—the life or death kind—happens continuously, conflict every moment of every day.  Big fish eat smaller fish who eat tiny fish who eat plants and algae. The life of the fisherman lies in being tuned in to this world beneath the waves.

Kathryn the Explorer

April 17, 2018

Prompt: write a poem re-telling a family anecdote that has stuck with you over time.

You were eleven, I think,

Oldest of the quartet of kids

Set out to explore the woods behind our house.

Old enough to be responsible,

Old enough to be the boss.

So we let you be “free range” that afternoon

And you took advantage of that freedom

To roam the woods and hills and paths

In your little kingdom.

You were gone a long time.

Just as I was beginning to feel

A twinge of anxiety

You lead your tiny corps of explorers

Out of the wilderness.

It would have all be fine

And deemed a great success…

Until Will emerged minus one boot.

You’d been to the river

(I never imagined you’d roam so far)

The boot came off and floated away

You told me later you surely could have retrieved it.

But you didn’t.

You made a wise choice.

And my parent-heart is forever thankful for that choice.

Man in the Moon

Photo by Zurijeta/Shutterstock.com

April 16, 2018

Prompt:  write a poem about play or sports.

That summer when we were still young enough

To revel in monotony,

All the kids in the neighborhood

Would gather in the evenings

At the base of an enormous cottonwood tree

And play our favorite game.

“Man in the Moon

Come join me soon.”

“It” would bellow these words

And the mad dash would begin

Across the expanse of the lawn

To the safety of a base on the other side

To live for another round

Or be caught and become a captor.

Round after round we would play

With cottonwood seeds falling like snow

On the lush green grass, 

With the smells of horses and hay

Wafting to us with their pungent yet pleasant odors.

Lightning bugs flashed and cicadas chirped

As we played into the dark

Till we were damp with dew.

Sweaty, smelly, exhausted,

We answered our parents’ calls

For baths and bed

And dreams of the Man in the Moon.

 *********

Man on the Moon

Come join me soon.

If you wear red

Forge ahead.

If you wear blue

Jump like a gnu.

If you wear green

Prance like a queen.

If you wear pink

Slither like a skink.

If you wear yellow 

Jiggle like jello.

If you wear black

Run like a yak.

If you wear brown

Cartwheel like a clown.

If you wear orange

Fly like a dorange.

(Yes, I made up that last one

‘Cause rhyming orange can’t be done.)

One Strange Rock

April 14, 2018

Prompt:  write a poem in which something big and something small come together.

To see the Earth as it hangs in space

And watch as patterns play out in panoramic scope,

This is the view of the astronauts who fly above us.

Sixteen sun rises and sunsets every day

Never obscured by clouds

But always brilliantly clear and stunning

Rising above the thin blue line of the atmosphere.

Out the windows they peer

And see things humans have never seen…

A view of the sun set against the black of space,

Not the azure blue of the sky,

And to know it as the star it truly is.

The Amazon obscured by the River in the Sky

That floats, massive, ever flowing

Until the brick wall of the Andes

Drains it of its moisture and

Feeds the mighty river below

Over and over and over again.

The magnetic field of the Earth made

Fully visible in the Aurora Borealis

Mesmerizing below their craft

As it plays and dances around the Pole.

Diatom blooms swirling in the ocean

Like oil meeting water, iridescently mixing,

Birthed by glaciers calving

And sandstorms blown a thousand miles

From one continent to the next.

Perspective is everything and brings with it

Feelings of awe

And gratitude

For this one strange rock we call home.

April 12, 2018

Prompt: write a haibun that takes in the natural landscape of the place you live.  (Note: A haibun is a Japanese form that blends prose-based travel writing with haiku.)

Spring has blossomed on Honeybee Lane.

Beautiful Yoshino cherry trees line the drives and give a warm welcome to all.

But there is a silence, stark and sinister,

Revealing the absence of the bees that have covered these trees every spring. 

Until now.

White blooms tinged with pink

Await pollination by

Bees that never come.

April 11, 2018

Prompt:  write a poem that addresses the future.

Transfiguration

The leaves are dying.

As the sun’s rays slant more steeply

Temperatures drop and light decreases

Things the leaves relied on to create food fade away

The green of chlorophyll gives way to the reds, oranges and yellows

Always there but ever masked by the green until…

The leaves are dying.

Yet in their last days

Their true colors are revealed,

They shine in brilliance

Hanging onto life by a thread.

They are transfigured.

And so may I

As years go by

Be changed into the person I have been all along

And am still becoming

My true self revealed, bright and beautiful.

And as the autumn leaves,

Go out in a blaze of glory.

Four Hours with Madeline

April 10, 2018

Prompt:  write a poem of simultaneity – in which multiple things are happening at once.

Four hours with Madeline

Let’s blow bubbles.

Watch me spin around.

Throw rocks in the pond.

Look! A worm!

Ewww! It pooped on my hand!

Let’s find more worms.

We’re Worm Girls! Worm Girls!

Get out the play-doh.

Make a worm.

Mold an animal.

Snip off its head.

Madeline!  How could you?

It’s ok, Grand.  It’s just play-doh.
I want to pet the kitty cats.

Can I have some candy?

You hide; I’ll count.

…eight, nine, ten.

Ready or not, here I come!

Ahhh! It’s a wolf! It’s a wolf!

Run—run—run!

You be that doll and I’ll be this one.

Sister, sister, let’s get dressed.

Can I have a drink?

I want the pink cup.

I want the plate with the red apple on it.
How do you like your supper?
Thumbs up.
I don't want to eat any more bites.

Can I stay up five more minutes?

Set the timer.

The orange ball went in the toilet.

Let’s read a book.

Brown bear, brown bear, what do you see?

Time to turn out the light.

Prance around the perimeter of the bed.

Madeline, do you want me to sing you a song or say a prayer with you?

Why are you talking to me? Leave me alone.

Silence.

Deep breaths.

Peace.

On the Cliff Edge of Doom

Prompt: write poems in which mysterious and magical things occur.

She stands on the cliff-edge of doom

Wind blowing

Hair flowing

In that moment her death did loom.

But in her heart she feels no fear

No heart racing

No feet pacing

It is the witch’s voice she hears.

“Look into my eye; see how you will die.”

Pupils staring

Nostrils flaring

She sees her fate—is satisfied.

So from the cliff she takes a dive

Legs lunging

Arms plunging

Knowing that she will survive.

Poem: Get By

You left me in bed

And said flippantly,

“Try to get by until I get back.”

We both laughed at this ludicrous thought...

            That I couldn’t get by.

As we age I know this idea will become less ludicrous.

A day will come when you or I will not

“Get by until you get back.”

Our very existence will depend upon the other.

I’m glad you’re the one for me.

Poem: We Prayed Today

We prayed together

You and I

Though not an “Our Father” or “Amen” was said.

For “What is prayer?” we queried.

We drank our coffee face to face

And shared our love of God

            

And words

We took great joy in the sharing

            Of vibrant trips,

            Artful events,

            Family concerns,

            Books and beauty.

And as we shared

Our Lord was there

            In our midst

He took delight in our conversation,

            Noted our concerns,

            Felt our passions.

Yes, we prayed together

            You and I

For what is prayer

            If not

            This?

National Poetry Month: First Poem

For National Poetry Month I am accepting the challenge from this site to write a poem every day.  I won't publish all of them ( some of them of pretty terrible) but I thought I put some of them here.

Today's prompt: write a poem that is based on a secret shame, or a secret pleasure. 

How was I to know?

How was I to know that you,

A scruffy mutt of a dog,

Small, shaggy, amiable—

You who readily jumped into our car

And came home with us

On that day we found you alone—

How was I to know

As I stood in my front yard

Watching the neighbor boy

Pedal by on his bike

That you knew

What “Sic ‘em” meant?

That you would chase down that boy

That you would bite that boy on the leg

That you would be so quick to obey and defend

I don’t know what possessed me to say those words

And I certainly never owned my part in your transgression

Till years had passed

And fear of punishment

And just plain embarrassment

Had faded away.

This Was Easter

I am writing poetry during April for National Poetry Month.  The challenge is to write a poem a day for the whole month. Every day I receive a lesson on writing poetry and a prompt.  You can find the information here.

One of the prompts was to write a list poem.  Here is mine.

This was Easter.
Bright eggs scattered on the green lawn

Treasures inside

Toddlers excitedly filling their baskets

Princess flower girl Laurel

Ginger mop-top Westley

Madeline with her mouth full of egg

Four generations

Family portraits

Set the timer and run!

On the table

Ham and deviled eggs

Birthday cake

At the table

Many voices

Things said

And things left unsaid

This was Easter.