a poem a day in the month of may
Conscious
Yearning
Closing
Loose
Ends
Start again
Cycles, seasons,
wheels within wheels
to everything
turn turn turn
getting dizzy
feeling groovy
familiar path
deepened rut
not necessarily
the right track
but here I am
again
.
still
moving
We eat ice cream,
fresh peach churned,
cycles of cream
and juice like July
is supposed to taste-
it drips down between
my children’s fingers,
a legacy so sweet.
Carousel
A carousel turning around and around,
The music unceasing calliope sounds.
Emotions the horses upon which I ride,
First high and then low until finally I slide,
To the edge of the platform to try and get down,
But I fear if I make the leap to the ground.
That things will not change for better but worse,
The fear of the unknown always a curse.
Maybe one day I’ll learn how slow it all down
And finally get off this merry go round.
Karri Temple Brackett
May 28, 2023
https://themarvelousandthemundane.com/2023/05/28/carousel/
Living through cycles
I have much to learn, and yet...
Much more to forget
Nature is full of cycles,
Moon, weather, plants,
Just to name a few.
Humans used to rotate,
Through war and peace,
It seems all we have now is war
begin
inhale
rise
heat
expand
hurt
learn
sow
bloom
harvest
wither
heal
teach
cool
contract
set
exhale
end
Moving tides washing the shores
Pulling me inward, outward
Each day, a year of cycles
Every moment a dying birth
Am I a chrysalis, a caterpillar,
a butterfly?
Or imaginal cells, unformed
Yet to be.
Cycles
I’m a grateful witness to the cycles of life.
The seed is scattered, catching in the dirt.
The grass grows long, sprouting buttercups madly.
The sun beats down, defying life to carry on,
Uplifting in its provocation.
Then the rains sweep in, sometimes soft and gentle,
Sometimes furious in their downpour.
Eventually, the water clears and clouds are left in its wake,
Humidity greeting the emergence into a fresh earth.
A rainbow shines on the fortunate eyes.
What’s left, then, but tall grass and wildflowers,
Mornings cool until they’re not,
A slate wiped clean to begin the cycle over?
A melody and a rhythm,
A mystery and a commitment,
We are all carried by our cycles,
Certain we can be uncertain
As we expand ourselves and shine.
"I'm ok with it, really I am."
"But sometimes I wonder
what it's like on the other side &
i think I'd rather just stay right here."
"But, it would be really kool
to meet the one who made me
and really loves me."
"i hope it's all real"
"Birth is just too scary."
"Death is just too scary."
kindred ponders complete my cycle.
No poem or wisdom today but staying on point with the theme:
What’s the difference between a well-dressed man on a bicycle and a poorly dressed man on a unicycle?
..........
Attire
Observing the moon
in her nightly orbit,
I find she has much
to teach me
about living.
As she waxes large,
I’m reminded to inhale, too,
taking in a deep breath
of all that is and can be
truly wonderful in life.
And when she wanes,
I must also exhale,
choosing to see
what I can let go
and what may
no longer be needed.
In her fullness,
I can take up space as well,
believing it’s okay to shine
if I will just be true
to the real me.
And in her darkness,
I likewise rest,
reassuring myself
I really don't need
to produce
all the time
to be worthwhile.
Even in the
repetition of her cycles,
I find a rhythm
for life
that is sustaining
and encouraging,
comforting
and empowering.
in her circular flow,
about thriving.
cycles of life
seasons to mark time
trips around the sun
plant, nurture, harvest, rest
spring, summer, fall, winter
one trip - one year
more births
and deaths
filling creation
with life
flowers, bees
leaves on trees
eggs in nests
babies wrapped
all across this
shared existence
each with its own
creation likes patterns
rhythmic and natural
what a wonderful world
Our love moves through cycles.
Shadow and light,
hope and helplessness,
sheer joyful delight and howling excitement,
tears of sadness, tears of rage, tears of pain.
A deep, pragmatic, magical love moving through cycles.
Our lives move in cycles.
Playful glee and despondent despair,
forward motion and sliding backwards,
freedom dancing into ecstatic dreams,
stumbling steps towards destinations unknown.
Lives of many sides, angles and layers, intricately drawn.
Our visions move in cycles.
Clarity and clouds,
brilliant revelations and deep, dense fog,
songs into symphonies,
untethered words turn to chaos.
Cycles turn and turn again.
I love how some days a word quickly forms associations and stories for me, and other days I let the word sort of rest on my heart as I go about living to see what it brings up. Cycle is definitely one I will carry around with me today 💗
My belief system
revolves around cycles, soul
of all creation
The circle is my
sacred, shaping the living
new tree rings each year
Current of life flows
moving matter on its course
repeats in cycles
Cycles.
Conscious
Yearning
Closing
Loose
Ends
Start again
Cycles, seasons,
wheels within wheels
to everything
turn turn turn
getting dizzy
feeling groovy
familiar path
deepened rut
not necessarily
the right track
but here I am
again
.
still
.
moving
We eat ice cream,
fresh peach churned,
cycles of cream
and juice like July
is supposed to taste-
it drips down between
my children’s fingers,
a legacy so sweet.
Carousel
A carousel turning around and around,
The music unceasing calliope sounds.
Emotions the horses upon which I ride,
First high and then low until finally I slide,
To the edge of the platform to try and get down,
But I fear if I make the leap to the ground.
That things will not change for better but worse,
The fear of the unknown always a curse.
Maybe one day I’ll learn how slow it all down
And finally get off this merry go round.
Karri Temple Brackett
May 28, 2023
https://themarvelousandthemundane.com/2023/05/28/carousel/
Living through cycles
I have much to learn, and yet...
Much more to forget
Nature is full of cycles,
Moon, weather, plants,
Just to name a few.
Humans used to rotate,
Through war and peace,
It seems all we have now is war
begin
.
inhale
rise
heat
expand
hurt
learn
sow
bloom
harvest
wither
heal
teach
cool
contract
set
exhale
.
end
.
.
.
begin
again
Moving tides washing the shores
Pulling me inward, outward
Each day, a year of cycles
Every moment a dying birth
Am I a chrysalis, a caterpillar,
a butterfly?
Or imaginal cells, unformed
Yet to be.
Cycles
.
I’m a grateful witness to the cycles of life.
The seed is scattered, catching in the dirt.
The grass grows long, sprouting buttercups madly.
The sun beats down, defying life to carry on,
Uplifting in its provocation.
Then the rains sweep in, sometimes soft and gentle,
Sometimes furious in their downpour.
Eventually, the water clears and clouds are left in its wake,
Humidity greeting the emergence into a fresh earth.
A rainbow shines on the fortunate eyes.
What’s left, then, but tall grass and wildflowers,
Mornings cool until they’re not,
A slate wiped clean to begin the cycle over?
A melody and a rhythm,
A mystery and a commitment,
We are all carried by our cycles,
Certain we can be uncertain
As we expand ourselves and shine.
"I'm ok with it, really I am."
"But sometimes I wonder
what it's like on the other side &
i think I'd rather just stay right here."
"But, it would be really kool
to meet the one who made me
and really loves me."
"i hope it's all real"
"Birth is just too scary."
"Death is just too scary."
kindred ponders complete my cycle.
No poem or wisdom today but staying on point with the theme:
What’s the difference between a well-dressed man on a bicycle and a poorly dressed man on a unicycle?
..........
Attire
Cycles
Observing the moon
in her nightly orbit,
I find she has much
to teach me
about living.
As she waxes large,
I’m reminded to inhale, too,
taking in a deep breath
of all that is and can be
truly wonderful in life.
And when she wanes,
I must also exhale,
choosing to see
what I can let go
and what may
no longer be needed.
In her fullness,
I can take up space as well,
believing it’s okay to shine
if I will just be true
to the real me.
And in her darkness,
I likewise rest,
reassuring myself
I really don't need
to produce
all the time
to be worthwhile.
Even in the
repetition of her cycles,
I find a rhythm
for life
that is sustaining
and encouraging,
comforting
and empowering.
Observing the moon
in her circular flow,
I find she has much
to teach me
about thriving.
cycles of life
seasons to mark time
trips around the sun
plant, nurture, harvest, rest
spring, summer, fall, winter
one trip - one year
more births
and deaths
filling creation
with life
flowers, bees
leaves on trees
eggs in nests
babies wrapped
all across this
shared existence
each with its own
cycles of life
creation likes patterns
rhythmic and natural
what a wonderful world
Cycles
Our love moves through cycles.
Shadow and light,
hope and helplessness,
sheer joyful delight and howling excitement,
tears of sadness, tears of rage, tears of pain.
A deep, pragmatic, magical love moving through cycles.
Our lives move in cycles.
Playful glee and despondent despair,
forward motion and sliding backwards,
freedom dancing into ecstatic dreams,
stumbling steps towards destinations unknown.
Lives of many sides, angles and layers, intricately drawn.
Our visions move in cycles.
Clarity and clouds,
brilliant revelations and deep, dense fog,
songs into symphonies,
untethered words turn to chaos.
Cycles turn and turn again.
I love how some days a word quickly forms associations and stories for me, and other days I let the word sort of rest on my heart as I go about living to see what it brings up. Cycle is definitely one I will carry around with me today 💗
My belief system
revolves around cycles, soul
of all creation
The circle is my
sacred, shaping the living
new tree rings each year
Current of life flows
moving matter on its course
repeats in cycles