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Day 19: Peace Poetry Postcard Month

 

crow.jpg

The day I died,
a bereavement of sorts,
I found myself dismembered.

Through shattered
insignificances
scattered all round,
I foraged to recompose
the whole of me.

I learned to leave
behind depletion.
Breathe in singularity.

As shard by shard
myself rebuilt,
a peaceful horizon
unfurled.

We lose in pain,
but in the gain
we find ourselves
transfigured.

 

 

Unfolding, An Advent Meditation

Announcing the publication of my new book of poetry and prayers.BookCoverImage

I know it is a bit early to announce. But if you would like to share this with your community, below is a sample page.

 

Tuesday
For Our Earth
Luke 21: 25-28


Breathe

Unfolding
The earth declares your Wonder,
winds roaring over plains,
snows laden heavy on our land,
waters in contempt of their barriers.

It is in your delicate disclosure
I still myself to hear
the bleat of the infant voice,
the One who will bear us home to you.

Selah
Nature moves with force, but also in whispers. Can you make time today to slow down and notice the world around you to allow yourself to enjoy a bit of nature?

Mantram
Immerse me in your promise.            

Blessing
In praise of sleeping roots wintering
underground, may I take time to rest.
In praise of darkened nights,
may I find peace enough to slumber.
In praise of water icebound,
may I make time for transformation.                                          


Breathe

Unfolding is a daily devotional for the season of Advent. Beginning with the first Sunday in Advent, Lexanne Leonard brings a gentleness to the days through her offering of scripture, poetry, and prayer, ending on Christmas morning. It is a breath and pause to reconnect with the Divine in these busy days of Advent.

Each meditation was written through lectio divina from the lectionary readings for each Sunday of Advent, Cycle C. Every day a piece of the Sunday scripture is expressed through poetry, prayer, and reflection. Also, each day of the week is dedicated to bringing to the forefront compassionate concerns for our world.

Through Lexanne’s own practice of Passage Meditation, she presents a “mantram,” a short phrase, for each week. It can be said throughout the day to bring one back to the present and to draw strength from the scripture passages, poems, and prayers offered in the daily meditation.

“Here, within her words is the rhythm we all may be seeking. Instead of clamor, there is quiet. Rather than over spending in order to give, there is the offering of gift which no money can buy. We will not faint under the pressure to get things checked off a list, but instead simplicity is called upon with bible, candle, silence, and reflection.” – Scott Jenkins, Director, Celtic Way

It is now available at Amazon.com or your local independent bookseller.

 

The Poetry Marathon – 24 Poems in 24 Hours

Today I am taking part in this wild marathon!

Each hour a new prompt is posted. You can write from the prompt or not.

I will post my work here at the half-way mark – 12 poems. And then again at the end, the last 12 poems for a total of 24.

If you want to follow my work along the way, here is a link to my page at the marathon:

Lexie.

You can see also see the work of others at The Poetry Marathon blog.

Enjoy!

Extinction

I heard that poetry is going extinct,napofeature3
government data shows, a Friday
afternoon tweet to end the week.

But I wonder if they heard
the darling little bird outside my
window before dawn,
it’s featherweight held bravely
by budding branch, itself
tweeting an arrival that returns
without fail in creamsicle
goodness each day.

I wonder if they heard
my first graders who listen to
Dickinson and Guthrie,
Williams and Hughes
as they place their chewed pencils,
erasers gone for the use,
on lined paper almost too
narrow to hold their words.

            I have made a erath
            today. It looks pride qute.
            I wote wrds.

 I know what he means.

            I have made an earth
            today. It looks pretty quiet.
            I wrote words.

Or, I wonder if they heard her,

            owl owl come
            I love you you love
            me hoooooo said
            owl I am a girl said
            the owl I follow the
            forest I love the hooooo
            I follow the village and
            I follow my self I love
            the forest forest and
            I love my self the
            people say I am a
            gorgeous white owl
            I love when people
            say I am a gorgeous
            white owl I just follow
            my heart people follow my
            heart I say to the people
            hooooo they say
            I love owls they say
            I will follow your heart

I heard someone tweet today
that poetry is going extinct.

I wonder where they heard that.

.

.

.

Author’s Note:

NaPoWriMo Day 24. I did not use the prompt today. A tweet at the end of the school day caught my attention instead.

According to government data, as reported by the Washington Post, poetry is going extinct.

Not in my life. Sorry. Data, whether in standardized assessment in the schools or studies funded by who knows what, only tells a tip of a story.

There is more. There is always so much more.

The Poet and the Morning Train

The train was late today, hypnotic with its slack return,napofeature3
tardy on tracks anticipating, making no amends.

I teeter up the steps into its Herculean mouth
and find my place among its captives dazed by morning sun.

Defiant winter clouds, away they rolled through darkened night,
the new-born spring now unconcealed shined upon our day.

And pulling from its temporary stall, a jerk, push back,
no gentle abdication there, I cache myself within

your book, a salve for wounds, escape from cynical minds. I
free myself from stifled rank and file gleaning your words,

ordain my mind to fields beyond, drown out the clack and
rumble. My ride runs out, I stand once more, depart to ground

inert. I dash to meet delays, ordeals not my own.
The train departs once more, still late. I plunge into the day.

.
.
.

Author’s Note:

Today at NaPoWriMo our challenge for National Poetry Month is to write a “fourteener.” Visit the page to read more about that!

Our writing group also met with prompt in hand. My blindly chosen prompt was as follows. An opening line and seven words to include:

#6. The train was late today and it was always early…

ordeal
teetering
wounded
defiance
hypnotic
concealed
cynical

TADA! I combined the prompt with a “14er.” Please be gentle, I am recovering from the flu. 🙂