Poetry Friday: Wish I'd Been There

The theme for December's poetry challenge was "Wish I'd been There or a wistful look back at a historic event."  Hmmmmmm. I'm not much of a wistful person. Nor a history-focused student.  I prefer to think ahead, to what's possible, instead of looking at the past. (Although, I DO love historical drama. Maybe it's the clothes.) 

Anyhow, I was stumped on this one until I stumbled across this article from Mental Floss about the Winter Solstice, and learned that several revolutionary events happened on the "shortest day" in 1620, 1898, and 1968.  Add in the fact that Solstice roughly translates to "sun stands still" and I had myself a poem. 

Be well, all.  You still have time. 

The Sun Stands Still

Sounds lonely,

doesn’t it? 

Sol, hovering

as she did

for Pilgrims,

cloaked and anxious,

setting booted foot upon rock.

Sounds ordinary,

doesn’t it?

Sol, loitering

as she did

for Pierre and Marie Curie,

gaping at radium,

opening the atomic age.

 

Sounds quiet, 

doesn’t it? 

Sol, idling

as she did

for William, Frank, James,

hearts shaking, rumbling

moonward in Apollo 8. 

 

Don’t hold

your breath, then

when Sol suspends

us.  

Be lonely, be ordinary,

be quiet. Sounds poetic,

Doesn’t it?

 

------Sara Lewis Holmes (all rights reserved)

You can find my Poetry Sisters' wistfulness here:

Tanita

Kelly

Liz

Laura

Tricia

Poetry Friday is hosted today by Irene Latham. 

Poetry Friday: In gratitude for unfinished work

The task this Poetry Friday was to write a poem in conversation with one of our older poems (or to revise it) in keeping with our overall 2020 theme of hindsight/foresight. 

Well.  MUCH could be said about this year in hindsight. And I have a well of poems I've written (most with my poetry sisters) with which I could converse. But I wanted to go back to December of 2019, when our task was to write a poem of gratitude.  I wrote such a poem, then.  I was happy with it.  But I also found a fragment of a poem from that challenge that I'd never finished (the first stanza below.) 

Why not see where it led? Where does gratitude...even a fragment of gratitude... lead you? 

I am grateful for 

silence, marshmallow rich, 

that grows as I walk, alone;

I can feel the silence expand 

to the sky, to the half-moon,

to the constellations.

I am grateful for

evenings, tender-crisp,

on the edge of shared winter;

I can feel the night collapse

to the marrow of the earth,

to the well of oldest time. 

I am grateful for

hearts, layers-deep

beating apart and together;

I can feel the rhythm move

us to our fingertips, to the end 

of love’s reach.  

               ----Sara Lewis Holmes (all rights reserved) 

My poetry sisters' hindsight can be found here:

Liz
Laura
Tanita
Tricia 

Poetry Friday is hosted today by Carol's Corner.

Poetry Friday: The Naani

The naani is a poem of four lines and 20-25 syllables, whose subject is often (but not always) the first line. It was created (according to this post) by "one of India’s foremost poets, Dr. N Gopi."  

Like most of us, I had never written one. Or even read one. So I embraced beginner mind.  No expectations. No comparisons. Nothing but listening to what might arise in the quiet. 

Our theme was fall, or foresight, or both.

Autumn is blaze and decay;

A shuddering blow of the horn;

Split fruit; one tree stark,

One still singing. 

                         -----Sara Lewis Holmes (all rights reserved)

My poetry sisters naani are here:

Liz

Tanita

Laura

Tricia

Andi

Rebecca

Poetry Friday is hosted today by TeacherDance.