Posts Tagged ‘change’

Big Changes Comin’ : Revolutionary IMprov Haiku

August 3, 2017

Big change is comin’.
Big changes comin’ real soon?
I can’t tell fo sho.
Big Change is Comin'

Bidding Adieu And Starting Anew: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Free Verse

July 13, 2017

How do I bid adieu
To a life
And a lifestyle
I’ve lived
For years?

It was never comfortable.
Too Often
it was not pure,
nor holy,
nor of good report.
Rarely was it
praiseworthy.

It was not
Where I needed
Or wanted
To be.

At last,
here I am,
at the edge
of potential new paths,
rising out of the muck
and mire of the past.

New vistas,
new visions,
new opportunities
are spread out before me,
inviting me,
filling me with hope
and belief:

I CAN do this!

And yet…
I don’t know how
to step away.
I’m afraid I’ll lose
my shoe,
Stuck
In the past’s muck.

Then I recall Him.
He asks me to change.
He will lift me
up
and out;
Place my unshod feet
On paths He has traveled,
to places He has gone.

I believe
that when I’ve walked
His paths,
barefoot,
long enough to have worn
all the muck from my feet,
they will be shod
through His Grace
and Mercy
with righteousness,
And I will be purified
and able
to be
in the vistas
I can now only
dimly
see.

Social Justice Discouragement: Revolutionary IMprov Haiku

July 28, 2016

I often wonder/
how discouraged Gandhi felt./
Glad he didn’t stop.

What Changes? Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

April 3, 2016

What changes must I/
make in my life to be found/
worthy in His sight?

Why Worry? It Won’t Change: Romantic ImproVerse Haiku

January 6, 2016

Why worry that (s)he’s/
not thinking about you? You’re/
probably correct!

Y B Sorry For Opportunities? Revolutionary IMprov Haiku

August 16, 2015

I would never say/
“sorry” when change opens new/
opportunities.

A New Drink: Romantic Blogging Free Verse Poetry

May 6, 2015

Out in the scrub land,
surrounded by sage,
dry dust,
and a jackrabbit or two,
runs an old sulfur spring.

The water that oozes
from the alkaline soil
is slightly warm,
thick,
somewhat bitter tasting.

It’s not what a traveler
would normally choose,
but given the choice
between that and death,
in a pinch,
it will do.

She knows the path
to the sulfur spring well.
She’s trodden it many times.
It’s not hard to get to.
It’s well worn.
She can see the trail
in her sleep.
There’s not
a lot
else to view.

She knows the spring’s taste is
slightly off,
but she’s so familiar
with that path,
so smooth and easy,
and with the warm,
bitter water,
she finds it hard
to change.

“I’ve been here so often,”
she explains.
“And the taste isn’t
THAT bad.”
“You get used to it.”
“And it doesn’t take
much
effort.”

High on a mountain top
runs a cool mountain spring.
Fed by glacier melt
and late-developing snow storms,
its droplets struggle
through layers of limestone
which trap and remove
impurities.

The water which rises
and touches thirsty travelers
is breath-taking in its freshness
and purity
and crisp coolness.

Breath-taking
like the view
travelers get
from hiking there.
So much to see.
So much to appreciate.
“That drink,
and that view” people say
“makes it worth the effort.”

He offers
to take her
to that spring.
“Leave your well-worn path!”
he says.
“Struggle with me,
and try something new.”

She thinks about it,
for a moment.
But she’s so used
to the path!
So comfortable there!

He watches her go,
little dust devils
nipping at her heels
as she walks,
and walks,
and walks.

Pioneer
afraid to leave
comfortable trails.

He turns,
heart glad
from the vistas
before him,
yet sad.

He misses
that she is missing
what she is missing:
The sunset here.
The gold-painted peaks.
The crisp pine scent.
The cool, pure
naturally-filtered water.

He kneels
again
by the mountain spring,
and fills his canteen.
Then he fills
one for her,
for when she changes
her mind.

Church Notes: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku

January 25, 2015

If I examine/
my life, change, and follow Him,
what does that look like?

Buble’ Got It Wrong: Romantic ImproVerse Rhyming Haiku Lament

December 30, 2014

There’s a Buble’ song/
that has it all wrong. She’s met/
me but not really.
OR
The Michael Buble’/
song has it wrong. She’s met me,/
but hasn’t really.