February 24, 2020
Dear Writing Circle Friends,
Happy 2020! It’s been awhile since we’ve posted and we’re delighted to share poems from our first writing circle of this New Year. Our February theme was “Unfolding the Mystery!” What follows is a wonderfully eclectic collection. We hope you’ll spend some time listening to each piece. In so doing, may your own sense of mystery, possibility and happiness expand . . . Poetry is a steadfast companion in endeavors like this. Try it!
Warm Regards,
Lorri Lizza and the Writing Circle
Unfolding The Mystery – February 2020 Writing Circle
Look to This Day for It Is Life…
(Title Borrowed from A Sanskrit Blessing)
By Lisa Atkins
Each morning at breakfast:
a fresh flower in a tiny vase,
a steaming cup of tea,
and a gift.
The gift, sometimes pretty, often plain,
always extraordinary and graciously given anonymously,
sits quiet, brimming with possibility,
poignant or playful, painful or pleasant?
Is it a red letter D – A – Y ?
I smile at the promising prospect,
Will it be The Big? or One Fine?
When I look back from my tomorrows will it still tickle my astonishment?
Or maybe it will be that ordinary kind of Beautiful
that seeps into the cracks of my character, lightening my footsteps forever.
Will it hold bitter disappointment, my worst fears to face, heartbreak?
Perhaps, my wildest dreams, sweet surprise,
or Just Another At The Office, or.…Another Dollar.
It won’t be Before Yesterday or After Tomorrow (It’s the Present!)
My fingers fumble, but regardless, it’s a gift, precious and rare.
A day.
Another day,
to live and to love and to be;
and only I can unfold its mystery,
by living, and loving and being.
But first, I’ll drink my tea.
The Gift
By Lisa Brown
The gift is prettily encased in fancy wrapping
You open it slowly
Aware that there is meaning
in how you expose what’s within
You reveal its structure
As sturdy and confident
Then unfold the flaps one by one
To peek inside
And see
Your heart as others see it
Full of love and ready to be shared.
How Is It . . .?
By Lorri Lizza
How is it that . . .
Lines and circles
Dots and dashes
Open spaces in between
Drawn on lined paper or music sheets
Elevate
Illuminate
Give hope
Stop us in our tracks
Leaving us . . .
Tender
Thoughtful
Wistful
Willing
Grateful?
How does that happen?
Struggle, Strengthen Me
By Roberta Francis
Struggle, strengthen me.
Neck straight, I bow to the times and mouth the invocation,
though sometimes imprecation helps as well.
Frederick Douglass knew – no struggle, no progress.
Struggle for, against, through, around, beside –
our battles pick us, and justice chose me.
Justice warrior as martial artist –
I take on injustice for resistance training,
match my weaknesses and strengths
to what the adversary can and cannot do.
How many reps do I need to stay in fighting form?
How long does it take to earn a black belt in justice?
The Great “Not Knowing”
By Thomas Rich-Caverly
Why is it hard to admit we don’t know?
Why must we try to convince ourselves?
And at such a cost…
Curiosity.
Life without it, dull, drab, stagnant
Yet we continue to try and convince ourselves.
Curiosity 0h Curiosity
The adventure of not knowing,
Of not having to know.
Curiosity oh Curiosity
Replenish my vision
Please give me new sight.
Curiosity oh Curiosity
Allow me to see in you what my knowing kept hidden.
Please allow me to see it in me.
The Adventures of Not Knowing
By Sue G. Popek
Poets before us and poets within us,
all comingle in this altar of worship.
We sit– some slouched, others upright,
in this lofty church space designated
as the choir room.
Its oak-hugging walls complimenting the shared stained-glass windows,
mimick our own reflections of so many
lived adventures and writings.
Perhaps this very room and its cherished
voices continue to sing along with us,
as we settle into a comfort, embedded
by the heavenly presence of those before us.
As our words string together from pages read,
and electronic hand-held devices, a newness is sparked amongst us.
“Our souls are awash with grace.”*
Collectively, we touch the very edges of this room and ourselves.
We are ablaze in our sense of curiosity, “oh, curiosity…”*
Meeting ourselves and each other,
as anticipating writers in glory!
Verses of song spring forth from this well-rehearsed sacred territory,
as the many voices of our unique symphony
blend so eloquently together.
There is adventure in the not-knowing which occurs
with every meet-up in this writing sanctuary of sorts.
Blessings have birthed here forever.
We say it, share it and write about it—these unknowns.
A room of loving memories, both sung and written.
Sweets of chocolate, like doves,
tempt our hearts into creativity and friendship.
And beside these still waters, we will settle into this harbor,
restoring ourselves and each other,
as our souls ignite in kinship and new lineage.
* Inspired by the poetry of Eileen Gerety and Thomas Rich-Caverly