PATIENCE

See in the caterpillar the butterfly it becomes. See hope wash away despondence. Let children be children becoming their calling. Who’s served when pupae are pushed out of their chrysalis to fly? Grace comes neither too early nor too late but just in time.   ~~~ Linking with DVERSE’s Quadrille prompt.  Kim wants us to

THE CHOICE

Not color nor fragrance makes bees linger but the sweetness that a flower offers. When nectar’s gone and beauty fades, what else is there to give? Know from loss new life springs! # a tetractys poem (which I learned about through Bjorn’s post.  Check out his blog for lovely poetry).

THE SOUNDS OF SPRING

The woods wake. Sounds betray its secrets. Rustling leaves make one start – could it be snakes or chipmunks?   The wind teases the trees, still budding. Birds warble from the treetops. If I could only linger.   Footfalls echo on the sylvan grounds. The whisper of butterflies on air held all spellbound. The photos

BUTTERFLY

  The quiet of butterfly wings as they glide in the air speaks of grace that need no herald nor fanfare, and ever brings mindful hearts wonder. Written for DVerse Poets’ Meeting the Bar Prompt – Brevity.  Frank wants folks to write a five-line or shorter poem.   I chose to write a modified tanka  with

BECAUSE … (A Haibun)

“Vanity of vanity. All is vanity,” so says the prophet Qohelet in the Book of Ecclesiastes about  life. It does seem like life is all about chasing the wind. There are days when, saddled with the routine of everyday, I find myself engrossed in an internal conversation about existence. How do I reconcile the repetitive

CATERPILLAR (Tanka for WPC: Waiting)

Waiting for how long a caterpillar endures darkness of cocoon holding on to the promise imprinted in its essence Magic in due time rewards the patient labor Metamorphosis reveals the inner grandeur honoring humility WPC:  Waiting  

MY DREAM

a butterfly cavorting in endless summers a deer drinking spring waters soon sprinting away from danger a worm ever struggling in darkness I am in this dream my exile holding on to hope – I will   awake at the appointed hour and  live   eternal life. It is Quadrille Monday in Dverse Poets’ Pub

THE STRUGGLE IS REAL

Predator is prey survival of the fittest balance of nature   DAILY POST:  PEST

BUTTERFLY (WPC: Focus)

  Yesterday, I was following my husband and children on their way to the woods to shoot some balloons. Formage, Grandpa’s mythical pet, was having a birthday party according to Grandpa and the children were supposed to join in the fun. While I was trying to catch up with the children who happened to be

TRIUMPH

Untouched by storms Dry from rains I am In my cocoon I feel the raindrops fall I hear the birds sing I sense a world waiting In the dark I am changing Should I remain hidden? Life calls Burst into the light I dared listen I became who I should become. DAILY POST:Triumph