Tag Archives: love

Health, Poetry, Writing

Lesson 14 The Way of the Wizard

Leave a comment

(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:

Poetry, Writing

Pet Photo Op

Leave a comment

(Poem 92 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

Beauty wearing an Easter bow.
Kenji wearing an Easter tie.
Kage wearing an Easter tie.
Aiko wearing an Easter bow.
Chika wearing an Easter bow.

Kenji was a gentleman,
ready to cooperate for the
camera, looking debonair.
Aiko said, no thank you,
but endured with a put-
upon dejected expression.
Kage was an expert at
striking a pose, seemed
familiar with formal attire.
Beauty was immediately
disgruntled and vexed,
gave me one brief chance.
I didn’t dare warn Chika,
simply snuck a photo before
she could even react.
The boys definitely won
the day with their
professional behavior.
The girls were divas whose
attitudes left little to be
desired, as expected.

@Home Studio – 92nd poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

Easter Bunny

Leave a comment

(Poem 91 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

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

English pagans gave us the name of the celebration Easter from their goddess Eostre.
Germans gave us the egg-laying bunny, the cutest addition, in my opinion.
Jews gave us the lamb and the traditions of Passover to intertwine.
Christians gave us The Lamb to make it all about.
The Easter lilies, we took from Japan, sometime after WWI.
An Ottoman Sultan’s sweet tooth may have brought future jellybeans in the form of Turkish delight.
A Russian invented Peeps in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania.
New Yorkers started the Easter Parade, strolling down Fifth Avenue in their spring fashions after church.
In Malta, they carry Mary through the streets.
In Ireland, they eat a special breakfast.
In Spain, they celebrate for an entire week.
In Italy, they eat bread shaped like a dove.
In the Vatican, the Pope gives a blessing.
In Australia, Easter Bilbies are all the rage.
In The United Kingdom, you must have hot cross buns.
In my house, it’s a Cadbury Cream Egg.
All over the world, through time and place, may your Easter be blessed by family and good fortune.

@Home Studio – 91st poem of the year

Runner ups for the AI hands photos to accompany my poem:

Fiction, Health, Poetry, Writing

Lesson 13 The Way of the Wizard

Leave a comment

(Poem 90 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

“God made this world, so it must be interesting enough to keep His attention. If you find things growing tired or stale or predictable, perhaps it is you who have lost the capacity to be interested.” Merlin-Deepak Chopra’s The Way of the Wizard    

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

This shadow world we grope through in darkness
must be illuminated inwardly to see the real.
Once we know something to be true and bind the
experience with the label of words, the trap has sprung.
Reality is the trembling of a delicate bird we have
caught, its heart thumping in our hands like a
quivering reed, who will perish if we hold it too long.
To go beyond the frontier of the known, we must
“forget everything and anticipate nothing.”
Only then will we pierce the boundary of perception
that challenges our familiarity with our limitations,
reveal spaces enmeshed in our everyday awareness
that are nuances, textures, aromas of beyond.
The unknown will beckon us from our shadow prisons,
and we will fly away, release by our own hands.

@Home Studio – 90th 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. 90-95.

Poetry, Writing

Esther

Leave a comment

(Poem 88 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/b0Wu4s

Hadassah’s fate was sealed by her beauty,
to become queen of the Persians and Medes.
Though Jewish blood ran through her veins,
Ahasuerus supplied all her needs.

She was put in place to save her people
from Haman, a vindictive and hateful man
who wanted to kill her entire race
with a conniving and evil master plan.

By purim’s luck, the date was set
to exterminate every Jew in the land,
but Esther’s favor with the king bought grace,
which allowed her people to take a stand.

And on that day so long ago
when soldiers attacked the Jews,
they were ready with weapons to defend themselves
thanks to the king’s brave Jewish muse.

@Home Studio – 88th poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

Stained Glass

Leave a comment

(Poem 86 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/i4nhSA

When you smile at me with genuine joy,
there’s no greater sight in the world.
It’s like an endless field of bluebonnets,
or the moment a rainbow appears in the sky.
It’s the striking outline of snow-capped mountains,
or a stained-glass window that takes your breath away.

When you laugh out loud spontaneously,
there’s no greater sound in the world.
It’s like a church choir breaking into song,
or celebration after the game-winning goal.
It’s birds calling to each other across a glade,
or the dazzling fanfare of a marching band.

When you hold me tight in your strong arms,
there’s no better feeling in the world.
It’s like warming your hands in front of a fire,
or soaking in a hot bubble bath on a cold day.
It’s hot tea and Christmas lights, a whispered prayer,
or the first sunlight after a storm, wrapped up in peace.

@Home Studio – 86th poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

Lonely Boat

Leave a comment

(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

Poetry, Writing

Sunrise in a Jar

Leave a comment

(Poem 80 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

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

I once caught sunrise in a jar
and was tempted to keep it,
put it on my bookshelf next to
an Asian vase and a picture of
a peacock I got off Marketplace.
I held that jar, warm as a cup
of tea, and felt the hum of
life dawning between my palms.
Regret at trapping such a being
immediately overwhelmed me,
and I unscrewed the lid lefty-
loosie until nothing hindered
egress, yet sunrise remained
in the jar as though appreciative
of a pause; so, we sat together
a little longer, sunrise and me.
Though brief, the moment was
poignant, and I am ashamed to
admit I sometimes wish I had
kept the lid screwed on tight.

@Home Studio – 80th poem of the year

Poetry, Writing

Snail

Leave a comment

(Poem 78 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

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

The flame of wisdom
is held aloft by an aged
snail who carries a galaxy
on her back as she glides
through the universe
leaving a trail of stars
in her slow-moving wake.
The wax that drips forms
rings around planets and
her eyes see through
time to the essence of
reality’s lover—authenticity.
She’s best friends with
both integrity and prudence
and the enemy of hubris.
When she tires, she rests
on the banks of compassion
until her spirit is restored,
then resumes her course.
Her gravity is the perfect
balance of curiosity and
contentment, and her laughter
creates starquakes like
cosmic fireworks brilliantly
painting heaven’s expanse.

@Home Studio – 78th poem of the year

Runner ups for the snail candle photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

The Tree that Holds up the Moon

Leave a comment

(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: