expectations
set aside for hope
desire
traded for love
fear
exchanged for peace
Shanti
(c) 4.26.18
Showing posts with label Peace. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Peace. Show all posts
Saturday, June 30, 2018
Tuesday, June 28, 2016
Poem: In My Hand
In My Hand
In my hand, new life
What new life?
It’s death
Only by dying do we live.
Dying to hate
Dying to fear
Dying to violence
In my hand, death
What death?
It’s life
This beating heart
Breaking with the
Tears of the world
Awake, my dying soul
Awake to love
Awake to peace
Awake to hope
In my hand,
New Life!
What new life?
It’s death
Only by dying do we live.
Dying to hate
Dying to fear
Dying to violence
In my hand, death
What death?
It’s life
This beating heart
Breaking with the
Tears of the world
Awake, my dying soul
Awake to love
Awake to peace
Awake to hope
In my hand,
New Life!
© 17 June 2016 by Suzy Jacobson Cherry
Tuesday, April 28, 2015
Poem: Peace - Twenty-Six of 30 #NaPoWriMo
Peace is at the door
If only we opened our hearts
And let Her enter
Poem & Photo (c) 26 April 2015
If only we opened our hearts
And let Her enter
Poem & Photo (c) 26 April 2015
 |
| Peace is a sweet dog friend of my friend Rev. Rosemary Anderson |
Saturday, May 17, 2014
Poem: Sunset
She took up smoking in her later years
Not the thin white paper cigarettes
Of her forebears but dark,
Deep-flavored cigarillos, held
Loose between two fingers, deep drags
And heavy sighs of satisfaction
Once a day, perhaps two, sitting back
Gently running a finger around
The lip of her glass, a taste of
Sweet Moscato or sherry, like a
Delicate Amantillado, sweet revenge
Against a life of discontent
Beneath a great arbor of Lady Banks
She found pleasure in the garden he tended
The subtle scent of basil, the fragrant
Desert soil wet with the evening libation
Dusk darkening, the two of them counted
Diamonds as they glittered into sight,
One by one, the sun slipping into a crimson west
When the night lay full upon them, the last
Draughts of spirits poured out as memories
Tobacco crumbled into ashtray, an offering of sorts
They took one another’s hand like teenagers, laughing
Left behind the sleeping garden, cat curled in his corner
Night birds singing familiar melodies, coyote in the
Distance reciting desert poetry, accompanied
By the rhythm of lover’s dreams, expectant
© 17 May 2014 – Suzy Jacobson Cherry
Not the thin white paper cigarettes
Of her forebears but dark,
Deep-flavored cigarillos, held
Loose between two fingers, deep drags
And heavy sighs of satisfaction
Once a day, perhaps two, sitting back
Gently running a finger around
The lip of her glass, a taste of
Sweet Moscato or sherry, like a
Delicate Amantillado, sweet revenge
Against a life of discontent
Beneath a great arbor of Lady Banks
She found pleasure in the garden he tended
The subtle scent of basil, the fragrant
Desert soil wet with the evening libation
Dusk darkening, the two of them counted
Diamonds as they glittered into sight,
One by one, the sun slipping into a crimson west
When the night lay full upon them, the last
Draughts of spirits poured out as memories
Tobacco crumbled into ashtray, an offering of sorts
They took one another’s hand like teenagers, laughing
Left behind the sleeping garden, cat curled in his corner
Night birds singing familiar melodies, coyote in the
Distance reciting desert poetry, accompanied
By the rhythm of lover’s dreams, expectant
© 17 May 2014 – Suzy Jacobson Cherry
Saturday, April 20, 2013
Friday, October 26, 2012
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Haiku - In the Quiet
In the quiet night/Crickets sing Creation's song/Living Universe
(c) 6 September 2011
(c) 6 September 2011
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