My husband's poetry

Category: spiritual

  • After the storm

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    All night and into morning it rained. Our yard is covered in leaves. The path by the playground is muddy. The pond bulges out of its banks. I sit on a wet bench, ponder the future, Offer prayers to a sullen sky, And ask the Unknowable Essence to grant me The strength to bind up…

  • Meditation on a Holy Day

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    white cirrus clouds swim in blue flag waves on a pole leaves rattle goodbye to summer winter comes slow but come it will jet contrail divides the sky the promise of spring laughs on a park swing 11-3-24

  • 23rd psalm

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want…” David, the thought of lying down in green pastures Gives me chiggers. But still the pounding rhythm drones on and on and on; “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want…” Stop telling me what I don’t want. David, I want nap time; I need…

  • In the garden

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    by

    cfblack
    in , , ,

    My poem from a monthly workshop I host – the prompt was, ‘Philosophy of Life.’ ‘In the Garden’ ((the prompt was: Philosophy of Life)) This fleeting moment, life – travelers, passing through. Each breath, a whisper, each step, a dance. No destination, the journey is the goal. The universe conspires with love – let go…

  • Judgment day

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    (to a prompt) skies dark, air still, shivers sweep an ancient hill. whispers rise, fade away, shadows creep on Judgment Day. no place to run, no space to hide, truth revealed, no masks or pride. time stands tall, debts come due, every soul reflects what’s true. scales tip with deeds and lies, hope soars, dreams…

  • after mindgravy

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    Outside the moon rolled up clouds revealed its round Buddha belly. I stood transfixed in the afterglow. Is this Zen I do not know I pat my belly in satisfaction. It is a good night to be alive. 9-20-2024

  • Soul Train

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    A friend from childhood asked me to write a memorial poem for the passing of his 92 year old father; I asked him for nine things that remind him of his father and incorporated them within the context of the poem (I have removed his father’s name from this posting). ‘Soul Train’ No one chooses…

  • The Day After Sunday

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    listening to dark fade into light blue jay, cardinal, Carolina wren celebrate survival of the night soon they’re wake the mourning dove neighbors parade their dogs past our porch I recite the name of God upon my knuckles go inside to read the news about a hurricane before the day grows too hot 7-8-24

  • staccato hoof beats

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    by

    cfblack
    in

    sugared tea spilled upon sand glistens for a moment soft green spring gives way to deeper hues cut roses lay in sacrifice along a garden path petals bleed in the dirt felicity wears a silken gown count twelve days of paradise on fingers and two toes staccato hoof beats on ancient cobble stones red roan…

  • Ridvan in the Park

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    low above the water insects glint in the sun small bird flits among them harvesting light wings touch the surface ripples run to the shore it’s not necessary to know what species the dance of light is enough 4-19-24