I like this Julie, and the way you gracefully capture the rhthym of life and death, how cycles move us through the patterns of earth and humans. Yuur clear eyed view of cycle and rhtyms of life give me hope. Thank you!
I loved, "The gracious beauty of love come to life in the birth of a tiny babe." Love as the ongoing expression of what we all are together. What is this all for, if not for love! Your love poems are beautiful Larry!
I live this imagery of the in between days. I usually dread this time of year in the post Christmas Day blues but I am working to embrace it this year.
I live this Karri, and the wisdom from your own inner spirit and the life you’ve lived. Some have used that term”born again” as litmus test and entrance requirement, a much too simplistic perspective in my opinion. Your wisdom perspectives resonates so much more in my heart. ❤️
I have talked/written about each one of us being a cell within the body of the earth! But I love "atoms being breathed by earth", reminds me that we are alive because earth is breathing us. Yes, love this!
This is wonderful Becca. I love the complexity of it, the depth and the question you pose, taking us on a journey in the center of that question. I also like the flow and cadence of your rhymes and the repeat of the words earth and birth. What a great poem!
There in the dark
A seed in the soil
Slowly grows, inch by inch
Cell divides, no light needed
A seed, an ovum, an egg
Pushes its way into a new
Version of itself:
When the babe knows its time to
Take up space and make its way out of
Its place for the past ten moons
The quiet of the womb is
Met with the bombardment of new sounds:
Familiar voice of mother, father, maybe brother or sister
A newcomer to this realm, an ordinary miracle.
This is lovely, Heidi. Your poem weaves a wonderful story, timeless miracles, and exquisite joy in beautiful and evocative ways. Thank you!
Fifty-six years ago
in midwinter, my grandmother gave
birth to my mother.
Twenty-six years ago
in midwinter, my mother gave
birth to my sister.
Five years ago
in midwinter, I gave
birth to my daughter.
Fifty-nine years ago
in midsummer, my grandmother gave
birth to my aunt.
Thirty years ago
in midsummer, my mother gave
birth to me.
Two years ago
in midsummer, I gave
birth to my son.
We are connected
by generations
by seasons
by love,
and on
we go...
I love the back and forth and intertwined generations.
We have a lot of interesting patterns/ connections, and I love it, too.
What a nice testimony to your family and legacy of mothers giving birth to the future. Thank you, A.
This reads like a song, very melodic
Birth and death travel together hand in hand. Mutually
dependent, as two companions swirling as the dance of life.
Fertile wombs of compost. Laboring portals for new sprouts
to touch the sun’s life-giving rays. Making blossoms and fruits
possible, sustenance for the ongoing turning of life’s wheel.
Seeds for future generations, ensuring the continuity of existence.
Till the time arrives, it always does, when leaves wither and fruits rot.
Dying roots becoming the humus, fertilizing possibilities for the subsequent
sprouts to break through the soil once again. Impermanence of life is the way
of our world. Cycles of birth and death.
I like this Julie, and the way you gracefully capture the rhthym of life and death, how cycles move us through the patterns of earth and humans. Yuur clear eyed view of cycle and rhtyms of life give me hope. Thank you!
I adore the line “Fertile wombs of compost. Laboring portals for new sprouts,” just such rich and earthy imagery you have here!! What a blessing ☀️🌱
Sans prompt, i surf.
Stumbing across the
"Call The Midwife"
Christmas special.
EXCELLENT
my mind is instantly filled with
the mommies laboring loudly,
The doctor insistent,
the forceps snipping,
mucus extractors extracting,
as he eyes those plier-looking things that pull out
the baby's stuck head.
Snow.
And all those delightful brittish accents.
while the music
swirls and shrinks and swells.
I am fully hooked.
Ding goes the android.
(Actually its the sound of
a slide guitar, wrongly
titled "banjo")
Birth.
(i hear god laughing)
Very nice poem, Chuck! I believe God laughs quite deeply, with, for and at us!
Birth
Gratitude flows for these slow, quiet days
of this in between week,
circles flowing to another ending,
gracious earth giving birth to a new year,
new dreams, new visions, new jouneys.
Pulling out photo albums as we sit by the fire,
our son and partner laughing at the images
of mom and dad on the way to
becoming what we seem to be now.
We laugh at the hopeful dreamers,
smiling at the new lives birthed into their own,
tired eyes and haphazard hair obscured
by the gracious beauty of love come to life
in the birth of a tiny babe.
Melding into the mystery of night,
we say a humble prayer of thanks
for these trips around the sun,
these moments of beauty along the way,
hope born again in broken hearts healed by love.
This is lovely, Larry!
Thank you very much, Kaitlin!
I loved, "The gracious beauty of love come to life in the birth of a tiny babe." Love as the ongoing expression of what we all are together. What is this all for, if not for love! Your love poems are beautiful Larry!
Thank you Julia! Thank you always for reading, reflecting and sharing! ❤️🩹
I live this imagery of the in between days. I usually dread this time of year in the post Christmas Day blues but I am working to embrace it this year.
I hear that Karri. This can feel like a liminal time, or a time of uncertainty or waiting. Good luck with the embracing.
Rebirth
“You must be born again” I heard,
Every week.
Spiritual birth.
Rebirth.
Say these words.
Make sure you believe them enough.
Say them again just in case.
Only now years later do I realize,
The many rebirths I have chosen,
Because of love rather than fear.
Dying unto myself again and again,
To be born anew.
Another birth, another chance,
To get it right.
If only for a day.
-Karri Temple Brackett
December 26, 2023
I live this Karri, and the wisdom from your own inner spirit and the life you’ve lived. Some have used that term”born again” as litmus test and entrance requirement, a much too simplistic perspective in my opinion. Your wisdom perspectives resonates so much more in my heart. ❤️
Thank you so much for your kind words. This is one i want to flesh out and explore further.
It's hard to birth a poem
when the sky is black
and my limbs are longing
for the softness of sheets,
but that is when my babies came,
gifts
of my goddess womb
given
at the ungodliest of hours.
Mine too! One at 3:15 am and the other at 3:30 am, but roughly four years apart. Yes birth comes when it is ready, not of our own timing.
Little stinkers! Making sure we know from the get go that our lives will be turned beautifully upside down.
Lisa, this is a wonderful poem of present moment, gratitude, life and facing what comes. Thank you!
Birth and Rebirth
Tis why we come to this Earth
To learn and unlearn
To shrink and grow
To feel joy and sorrow
To fill this void
And the collective dearth
Yes we come again
To experience a Birth
Very nice, Jimmy. Profound revelation in simple and beautiful words.
For what it's worth, Kaitlin, no need to apologize and merry winter to you and yours! :) I caught up on this prompt with this Oregon-inspired poem:
Breathing in the Forest
Perhaps there is no start or end to birth.
The rain that fed this fir now fills my heart,
just circling atoms being breathed by earth.
Insects and mushrooms repossess its girth:
to seed such life from death’s our oldest art,
as if there never was an end to birth.
Green mosses curl and stretch for all they’re worth,
small experts of the in-between, spore-smart.
We’re conscious atoms being breathed by earth,
awake and swaying in this ancient mirth.
Each day we all remake our chosen part.
Perhaps there is no start or end to birth,
just circling atoms being breathed by earth.
This is lovely. Even the title is poetic. Your words are mesmerizing.
I have talked/written about each one of us being a cell within the body of the earth! But I love "atoms being breathed by earth", reminds me that we are alive because earth is breathing us. Yes, love this!
Love that! I partly owe “being breathed” to my UU minister Jill, it’s one of her favorite sayings :)
This is wonderful Becca. I love the complexity of it, the depth and the question you pose, taking us on a journey in the center of that question. I also like the flow and cadence of your rhymes and the repeat of the words earth and birth. What a great poem!
Birth
being
immersed
released
touched
held
Amen’.