journey to peace

JOURNEY TO PEACE

Hope is not a strategy
but a way of living,
letting loose what lives within
into a wanting world

a way of living rising
from roots planted
in the soil of love, twisting
outward to bear lessons

from all those years
of unfurling and return,
the unknown entered
in trust blessed

by seasons of rest
and ripening, their light
illuminating the one
thing that matters –

trust in our instincts
as nature’s creatures
sending peace ahead
of every breath.

swb

With thanks to sister-blogger and supportive reader Philippa Rees for her recent comment in which she shared a phrase that inspired this post:

The mighty tree is alive with its roots deep in you…
Let what it sees guide you.

I spent the better part of yesterday – and it was the better part, I can assure you! – creating the collage and afterward, the poem. Thank you, Philippa, for the encouragement from afar that resonated so deeply within.

generations

mer 14 coverThe Mom Egg Review issue on “Change” is now out. At least one reader has this to say about the collection:

 “..(H)ere I am, having read every word in a 3-day Mom Egg marathon.  It is a wonderful book, impressive in the scope and depth and honesty of the work presented. The poetry is particularly strong and leaves one feeling richer knowing that there are a lot of people out there who sift and ponder and construct meaning as they drive to work and fold the sheets and feed the kids. There is beauty in tending life, and you have managed to capture it and present it to the world.”–Patrice Boyer Claeys

I am honored to have a poem of mine included in this themed edition. The journal publishes writing by mothers, and if anything spells “MOTHER” it is the ability to adapt and change. Which is what makes this issue so interesting – seeing the many, many ways ‘change’ is interpreted, understood and represented through the mother filter.

As a further example of change, the poem as accepted (below) has already undergone several significant changes and may appear elsewhere in altered form, even under changed title. Thus is the nature of mothering, and the recording of same.

GENERATIONS

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Unabashedly abundant, new growth clematis
spills across the river-side railing, sprouts
up through decking cracks, climbs and twists
tight tendrils about trellis and feeder, purple
flags aflutter effusively eclipsing

worn-to-shreds strips of sturdy old vine
holding steady yet, weathered
from years of climbing, carrying on
the singular task of stringing sturdy structures
to root offshoots in the rich soil of home.

This intertwined tangle my dream of family
extended: roots sunk and shoots sprung
from the richness within, weathered fore-vines
supporting the new finding their own way
out, up and ahead.

swb