I love this Katie. You define so poetically how listening to the sounds around us are their own form of podcvast. I came home today and my partner was in the garden, working away, getting hands dirty. We chatted and I went for a cycle through this beautiful spring day. And I listened!
This is very nice, Sarah. As I read it, each time it brings a feeling of peace. “To take a sacred breath.” It is indeed precious to be alive. Thank you!
This is a beautiful poem, Kaitlin. I like the “you are alive” refrain and the wonderful descriptions for how and what that is. “and it/makes the whole/earth rumble with/joy every time/you realize it,”. Catches me and leaves me heart-full. And thank you for the explanation of how you come up with the words and prompts.
This is such a poem of hope, renewal and resilience! "Did you know?/It's not too late/to be truly alive." Beautiful lines fit for a poster, or to say to a beloved who feels they are lost.
These beautiful lines below spoke to me deeply and provided an image I will keep in my heart always. Thank you Kaitlin for the love and light you bring into the world with your words.
This is beautiful, Margaret. "What if there is no scissor snip/No alphabet, amen, aho, ashe/But only ripples/In concentric waves/To say/I am/Alive" Truly lovely words.
As some traditions do, greeting each morning with "it is a good day to be alive" can change the flow of a day. Thank you for a lovely reminder! Have a wonderful trip and holiday, Claire!
Alive is walking out the door on a cool morning after a night of rain.
Alive is coming across a fence full roses - their colors bright in the gray morning, drops of night rain still on the petals.
Alive is feeling despair in your heart over the suffering in the world, the starving children, and the melting glaciers, and the anger, and the fear, and and and
Alive is the love you feel for your own life.
Alive is walking on this beautiful cool gray morning, with the birds, and the traffic, and feeling all of everything at once.
What is it to be alive?
Your death
struck me through
the heart,
An arrow
could not be truer.
And yet you still
seem so alive,
Your presence
as vibrant
in death,
even dearer.
When I see rainbows
and butterflies,
I remember you.
You touched so
many people
when you walked
an earthly path.
Your love shone so bright
while with us,
the glow remains present
while we are apart.
What is it to be alive?
To be present even
in death.
a thin line
Alive in your beautiful words and presence!
Thank you, Margaret
This is a beautiful poem, Nancy, and a lovely testimony to deep love.
Thank you, Larry
look, the sun is
shining and it’s time
to put down
the screen and go
out to the field
get some dirt under
your fingernails again
string up tomatoes
plant the peppers
without the buzz of
a podcast in your pocket
look, I know you
want to guzzle every
conversation, but what if
you drink in the steady pulse
of water through the drip line,
drink in the sounds of beetles
scuttling through straw,
of song sparrows trilling and
hummingbirds humming with
their whole bodies
What if you listened to
the conversations right here
with your muscles and bones
breath and sight
how, like the peas climbing
their trellis, you too
turn toward the sun
alive to everything
that doesn’t need
to be plugged in
This poem has me so ready to go out and plant today. Thank you!
I love this Katie. You define so poetically how listening to the sounds around us are their own form of podcvast. I came home today and my partner was in the garden, working away, getting hands dirty. We chatted and I went for a cycle through this beautiful spring day. And I listened!
To be alive is more
Than a beating heart
Breathing lungs
Eyes blinking
In the blistering sun.
To be alive is to process, daily
Whatever junk and treasure
The world lifts up
For our consumption.
To be alive is to wish sometimes
To die, hibernate, lie dormant
In the soft cool earth
While the world’s forests burn above
To wait safety until we recover
Ourselves or the tiniest spark
To ignite something new.
To be alive is to know
We are specks barely visible
On a grand horizon and wonder
What our existence means
Amidst incomprehensible vastness.
To be alive is to keep living
Uncertain of the precise meaning
Believing God created us
That our uniqueness is the point
To share ourselves—flaws, doubts,
And everything that lives within
Our striving imperfect souls.
To be alive, truly,
Is to say, I am here, ready
To be among the living and
Live in memory and service
Of those who came before
To cultivate a life of purpose and meaning,
And of possibility.
Whatever junk and treasure The world lifts up - so wonderful Rachel!
Yes, that line really stood out to me too - so true, so real!
the daily processing, yes! much of that done here!
Rachel, this is a wonderful witness to what it means to be alive. A wonderful poem.
It's the little things -
Toes in the grass -
A certain cloud,
Or light,
Or colour in the sky -
My daughter
Leaning in unprompted
For a cuddle -
These things
That cause me to pause,
To take a sacred breath,
Are the best reminders
Of how simply precious
It is to be alive.
Thank you for these reminders of the little things and the precious gift they are.
You are welcome! I need these reminders too Margaret - it's a big part of why I write, and why I love taking part in communities such as this one 💜
Same!
This is very nice, Sarah. As I read it, each time it brings a feeling of peace. “To take a sacred breath.” It is indeed precious to be alive. Thank you!
I am glad to contribute a little to you feeling some peace Larry ☺️
This is a beautiful poem, Kaitlin. I like the “you are alive” refrain and the wonderful descriptions for how and what that is. “and it/makes the whole/earth rumble with/joy every time/you realize it,”. Catches me and leaves me heart-full. And thank you for the explanation of how you come up with the words and prompts.
Did you know?
You can wake up every day and begin again.
It is never too late because there is no end.
The world is old,
but you can see it anew at any moment.
Your eyes can be closed
even when they are open.
All this time you have been growing
and trying to survive.
Did you know?
It's not too late
to be truly alive.
"the world is old, but you can see it anew" ❤️ I love these lines!
Ooooof, this is very good for me to hear right now A, thank you 😊💜
Thank you! The sacred pause you wrote about in your poem is something I needed as well. 🧡
I love it! Poetic reciprocity 😍
This is such a poem of hope, renewal and resilience! "Did you know?/It's not too late/to be truly alive." Beautiful lines fit for a poster, or to say to a beloved who feels they are lost.
These beautiful lines below spoke to me deeply and provided an image I will keep in my heart always. Thank you Kaitlin for the love and light you bring into the world with your words.
Not like someone
who has disconnected
from their own
inner beauty, but
like a woman
taking her child
self by the hand
and vowing to never let go.
(mt11:30)
Busy and alive
are not yoked to each other.
ask god; not the church.
Amen, Chuck!
The linear life from A to Z
where A is a gulping of new air
Yah
And Z is the expiration of time
Weh
I am somewhere in the middle of Decima’s thread
Pulled taut
Vibrating as each year is plucked.
But what if I could take that string and coil it round and round
Revisiting the dreams of youth
Touching points of death
And back again?
What if there is no scissor snip
No alphabet, amen, aho, ashe
But only ripples
In concentric waves
To say
I am
Alive
Aho.
"vibrating as each year is plucked" beautiful
like yah weh is a harpist and you the harp.
Sacred string of life, coiling, spiralling, and rippling on 💜
This is beautiful, Margaret. "What if there is no scissor snip/No alphabet, amen, aho, ashe/But only ripples/In concentric waves/To say/I am/Alive" Truly lovely words.
ALIVE
We are all the same
In our poverty,
Having nothing
To give to God
In payment for
What we receive,
After all we can’t make
Oxygen or water exist
Any more than
We can infuse breath
Or will our hearts
To beat without rest,
If we are honest,
We owe it all to
A higher power
Who thought it best
For us to possess
Only one thing - Life.
Life. And Love.
Grace!
Alive
Sunlight on my face
Blue cloudless sky and clear lake
I feel so alive!
(Currently feeling so lucky to be on the first day of our holiday in Italy)
As some traditions do, greeting each morning with "it is a good day to be alive" can change the flow of a day. Thank you for a lovely reminder! Have a wonderful trip and holiday, Claire!
Alive
What does it mean to be alive?
To see the delicate pink of the dawn colour the sky
To hear the sweet song of the birds break the silence
To smell the temptation of baking bread
To taste the richness of freshly made coffee
To feel the love and hope of connecting with family and friends throughout the day
What a lovely ode to living, being saive!
Visit
I don’t know if she recognized me
Though we’ve known each other for decades,
But her eyes met mine, and crinkled, as I joined her
At the sing along.
She knew most of the words, and sang along with others who encircled the room,
On their folding chairs, wheeled chairs, armchairs.
I sang too.
Flipping pages from one song to another was too much for her,
But she joined in again as her index finger found the place.
When it was time for me to leave I snapped a selfie of the two of us – my head at an impossible angle to stay in the frame.
I showed it to her, and she laughed.
Still alive! Alive! Alive!
This is so very tender and sweet, Karen.
Thanks Larry.
Alive is walking out the door on a cool morning after a night of rain.
Alive is coming across a fence full roses - their colors bright in the gray morning, drops of night rain still on the petals.
Alive is feeling despair in your heart over the suffering in the world, the starving children, and the melting glaciers, and the anger, and the fear, and and and
Alive is the love you feel for your own life.
Alive is walking on this beautiful cool gray morning, with the birds, and the traffic, and feeling all of everything at once.
This is beautiful, Jane.
Thank you Larry!
The prompt today reminds me of a song:
https://open.spotify.com/track/5m0AaCcveJ7o6Txm965xEd?si=cDi7ne-oRnKP8PlinD2x8w
Aisha Badru, Life to Live
Here is my poem:
I start the day half-empty
Then after the kid-out-the door chaos
Step into the park.
"Alive!"
Says the verdant green woods
Shouts the stream of buttercups
Sings the wild roses
"Alive!"
Replies the beating of my heart.
What a wonderful poem of rhythm and heart, Jess!
[being] alive
is more than
not being dead
•
being alive
is about
connection
to another
•
whether that is
gazing into
night sky
seeing stars
light years away
or
a lone hike
in the woods
surrounded by
creation
•
feeling
at home
relaxed
able to
breathe
and to
just be [alive]
•
for those that find
love - true love
even if it is
fleeting and
over now
the kisses
hand-holding
sharing
desserts and chores
•
these moments of
being alive
are glimpses of
resurrection
calling out
beckoning us
to come
•
to be
alive
This is very nice, Steven. I like the connections, and the evocation of resurrection.