It is a dark, stormy Friday,
and people are dying everywhere.
But, also, people are living,
as best we can in a pandemic,
heading towards our solitary Christmases,
trying to hold out hope
for a better new year.
Winter, Wild Woman says,
is a time of gestation,
from which we hopefully will
emerge transformed.
Wait! Wild Woman spoke
in the middle of her long nap?
Cool!
*This poem has come across vast distances,
has swum the sea, has hopped a plane,
to find you.
Let my poem be a prayer,
a song of hope.
Great forces are at work.
The Ancestors are near,
concerned, and whispering
words of encouragement.
**Our job is not to change the world,
the wise man says -
our job is (to be) changed.
* Italicized line by Edward Hirscht
** Italicized lines
from "Occupation" by Robert Brighurst - I changed the bracketed words.
Inspired by Wild Writing with Laurie Wagner. Sharing with the good folk at earthweal.
Well inspired, my friend! We must hold out hope for the new year. Hope is our best and brightest gift right now. Let those Great Forces be heard.
ReplyDeleteI love the last verse... change certainly begins with us.
ReplyDeleteI love love love, "let my poem be a prayer a song of hope"
ReplyDeleteClassic line there!!!!
The whole poem is inspiring but the ending stanza is what captured my heart!
ReplyDeleteYour opening stanza is so real it hurts, Sherry, but hope starts to seep through in the second stanza, the thought of a winter of gestation with a transformation at the end of it, and then blazes in: ‘Let my poem be a prayer, a song of hope’. I can hear the Ancestors whispering words of encouragement.
ReplyDeleteA much-needed message of hope, Sherry. Hopefully through all of this we are being changed for the better.
ReplyDeleteIf ever there was a time for the transformation of consciousness, this is it. Smiles.we live in hope.
ReplyDeleteAnd the world is helping us in that task.
ReplyDeleteFar the tide carried the poem to you, far the tide carries it to all of us. Thank you so much.
ReplyDeleteYou're the second person to predict big changes. I hope they're good ones.
ReplyDelete'Winter is a time of gestation' and spring is the time of birth. Let's hope.
Hope is what will get us through this terrible time of darkness. I see changes on the horizon.
ReplyDeleteLet my poem be a prayer,
ReplyDeletea song of hope.
It is certainly a time to pause and reflect on what is in store for the ensuing year. Looking gloomy for one thing and lots of prayers insisting! Happy hols Sherry and stay safe!
Hank