Tag Archives: illness

Lesson 14 The Way of the Wizard

(Poem 93 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/UQREqT

Pain is not truth;
it is simply what we must endure to find truth.
This body we are experiencing is an embroidered flower,
merely representative,
beautiful,
but artificial,
not the full living embodiment of the flower.
Thoughts are guests checking in and out of our quaint inn,
just as this form is temporary,
a visitor who will travel on.
We take death so personally,
spend a lifetime preventing loss,
projecting fear from our own ignorance,
denying our own place in the circle.
It is only possible to lose what is not real.
Even if we think we’ve lost everything,
what remains is what is real.

@Home Studio – 93rd poem of the year

Chopra, Deepak. The Way of the Wizard: Twenty Spiritual Lessons for Creating the Life You Want. New York, United States of America, Harmony Books, 1995, pp. 96-101.

Runner ups for the circle of life photos to accompany my poem:

Across the Universe

(Poem 89 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

Actors (clockwise from top C) Martin Luther McCoy, Dana Fuchs, T.V. Carpio, Ekaterina Sknavina, Evan Rachel Wood, Jim Sturgess, Kiva Dawson, Joe Anderson and Halley Wegryn Gross are shown in a scene from the film “Across The Universe” in this undated publicity photograph. https://images.app.goo.gl/VGx3qPKwxrQnu3xp6

i’m just a Girl standing here
wanting you to Hold Me Tight
so i can give you All My Loving.
I Want to Hold Your Hand.
though i endure tough times
With a Little Help From my Friends,
It Won’t Be Long before i need
more than they can give, but
I’ve Just Seen a Face that i can never
forget, and that is saying a lot for me.
i pray that god will Let It Be our
destiny that we will Come Together
forever, and if we ever get married,
Why Don’t We Do It in the Rain?
If I Fell, would you catch me?
I Want You to be the one who
always catches me, not the one
who says, “She’s So Heavy”, and
shirks the hard parts of love.
Dear Prudence will be our saving
grace, for our future will never
lack with us in it. we’ll be Flying
high the Blue Jay Way over the
rainbow and off to neverland
where I Am the Walrus and you are
the Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite
because you make my heart soar.
Something you said to me changed
my perspective forever, Oh! Darling.
you loved me as i was, freckles and
paleness, green-eyed simplicity, and
Strawberry Fields Forever.
it was a Revolution to be loved for
myself and celebrated for my curves.
you love me when i suffer,
and While My Guitar Gently Weeps,
you hold and comfort me, transporting
my grief Across the Universe.
you love me when my anger has
turned our world Helter Skelter and i
have forgotten Happiness
is a Warm Gun aimed at a Blackbird
the only way to handle strife?
no, you have shown me that
it’s ok to walk away, to pause,
to let things simmer down, then say Hey
Jude-iciously discuss our differences.
Don’t Let Me Down, my love.
don’t ever become someone other
than who you are. whoever said,
All You Need Is Love, never got a divorce.
you also need the right person, a
person who makes you feel like
Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds
when things are rough and you feel like
lana in the dirt with slime.

@Home Studio – 89th poem of the year

Todd, Suzanne., et al. Across the Universe Widescreen., Sony Pictures Home Entertainment, 2009.

Lonely Boat

(Poem 84 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/2ecDkl

Is there anything lonelier
than an empty boat
in the middle of the sea?

It has lost its mate
to the wind and the waves,
who never more shall be.

No, nothing is lonelier
than an empty boat
in the middle of the sea.

Except, perhaps,
this empty room
without you and only me.

@Home Studio – 84th poem of the year

The Tree that Holds up the Moon

(Poem 77 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/a1SThn

The tree that holds up the moon
had to be reinforced last month.
A branch broke and the light of night
nearly came tumbling down to earth.
We wept and prayed, wished we
had thought of something sooner.
Then the women gathered their
tools and began the tedious work
of stitching the bark strong where
the wound remained from the
gaping hole the bough left when
she fell away and broke our hearts.  

@Home Studio – 77th poem of the year

Runner ups for the tree moon photos to accompany my poem:

Sweet Inspiration

(Poem 76 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/FJuDC4

Sweet inspiration flows inward,
filling every cell and synapse with
translucent nectar that branches
into spirals of peaceful fragrance.
There are notes of earth and rain,
warm melons sitting ripe in a field,
flower petals lingering long after
being wilted by the moon’s tears,
golden bread fresh from the oven,
and the vellichor of parchment.

@Home Studio – 76th poem of the year

Runner ups for the inspiration photos to accompany my poem:

I Fell Today

(Poem 61 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/7pYBlB

I fell today while walking Kenji
the short distance to the dog run.
I did not trip, stumble, collapse,
slip, stub my toe, nor faint dead away.
It was as though the earth moved
from beneath my feet and there
was nothing left to do but lie down-
the slow motion forward momentum
reminiscent of a tree felled by rot.

My shocked dog panicked, then
sprung into action and proceeded to
administer CPR square in the middle
of my back while head-butting me,
attempting to bring me to. Trouble is,
I was not in need of any of these
ministrations; my breathing was
startled, but sure, and adrenaline
ensured no loss of consciousness.

I’ve dreaded this day for over a
year; “Whatever you do, don’t fall,”
the surgeon’s only instructions
like telling a bird not to fly, a fish
not to swim, a dog not to give CPR
to its helpless person in need.
So, fall, I did, but break, I did not.
A little scraped, a lot bruised, but
no longer dreading the first fall.

@Home Studio – 61st poem of the year

Grief is Hard

(Poem 58 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

“This is hard,” you say,
and point to her portrait,
no more words required.
Tears begin to flow;
you don’t want to cry
and say so.

I tell you no one knows
what you are feeling.
None of us have had a
best friend for 70 years
and had to feel the pain
of losing her.

Then I escape to my
room to weep into
my husband’s arms,
crying even harder
because she can’t
hold you.

@Home Studio – 58th poem of the year

I am a woman of integrity

(Poem 50 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com  https://gencraft.ai/p/WWuliN

I am a woman of integrity.
What you see is what you get—
the whole package wrapped up
in flaws, sewn together with
duct tape and staple-shaped
scars but built to endure adversity.
My O-rings maintain elasticity
no matter the cold they endure,
resilience practically my middle
name, so fire away and prepare
to launch; what could go wrong?

@Home Studio – 50th poem of the year

I Lotioned Your Feet

(Poem 48 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

My Mema passed away this morning. I had the privilege of spending 50 years in her presence. I will miss her something fierce. She has a husband she was married to for over 70 years, children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and great-great grandchildren, not to mention every other possible connection to people far and wide.

Mema and Grandad

I lotioned your feet, then hands
with white jasmine-scented
Bath & Body Works Miriam gave me
and tucked you in the way you like,
brushed your hair and read you your texts,
then some Bible verses of comfort—
Isaiah 40, the first one that surfaced.

The steady sounds of the ICU create
a strangely soothing white noise as a
backdrop to your labored breaths.
Lydia is here again to hold your hand
just one more time; one of many
one more times over the last few days
because each time could be the last.

The you I know is no longer here,
but the shell remains and deserves
gentle petting and reassurance.
Goodness knows how many times
you had to ‘there, there’ me in the last
50 years, buoying my spirits and righting
my sails with your steady faith and calm.

Boaz sat vigil until I arrived, and your
children and husband will take over after
I leave — we are all branches of a grand
candelabra you have lit with exuberance,
spreading across states and time, thankful to
have been influenced by the life you lived
and the love which from your cup overflowed.

@ICU Room 1 St. David’s Round Rock Hospital & Home Studio – 48th poem of the year

Certain Hallucinations Scurry

(Poem 35 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/h8lcXM

Certain hallucinations scurry like
wolf fox spider lizards on the periphery,
while others hover menacingly close.
Some wail a cacophony of muted pain
at the edge of consciousness’ spine,
competing with their counterparts’ whispers.
Knowing they are not tangible threats
does little to calm the heart in the dark,
rather their insubstantial qualities enhance
the mystery surrounding their existence.
They persist like webs of lies tangled,
ever-expanding and contracting in
sympathy with sleep, though negatively
correlated and eager to maintain a foothold.

@Home Studio – 35th poem of the year

Runner ups for the AI Creepy Hallucinations photos to accompany my poem: