On Saturday I cried and thought about the Paris tragedy, and these poemy-thoughts emerged: Continue reading
love flows in softly,
love begins through kindness.
love says “Good morning.”
love boards a train.
love rides behind you.
love wonders about you.
Love reaches out, “Hi!”
LOve takes you dancing,
LOVe flys you away,
LOVE holds you tight.
By M. H. Campbell
Thank you, Darlene, (at https://darlenescorner.wordpress.com) for giving me this challenge. I had fun, and I enjoyed reading your poem as well.
A friend asked my advice for how to write poetry, so here a few thoughts for if you are stuck and have to write a poem, but the ideas aren’t coming:
I know the pain slices through your hope, it casts your eyes toward the darkness, thinking it is bigger than the light,
But it’s NOT!
Feel the pain,
Push into the throb,
Hold onto it until you navigate its rapids because if you numb out, medicate, and avoid it, it will stay there, buried, still aching.
Numbing seems safe, but it just delays healing.
Healing comes through feeling, weeping, cleansing, and releasing.
Copyright 2014 by M. H. Campbell
The leaf, crafted with intention, landed there by the lake for me to ponder and remember: I am loved!
What does love look like?
Love shows up through the twinkle in the eyes a person when you walk into the room.
Love comes through the shape of a hug, a creamy rose, a heart, a crunchy leaf…
Look at the intricate beauty of a cottonwood leaf fallen to the stones, and see the creative message just for you: You are loved!
-M. H. Campbell
Tears loosen the icy grip of fear:
Fear of letting down, letting people see, letting people close, and letting yourself just be real–pimples, farts, screams, smiles, hugs, and all.
A heart buried out of fear of losing love if not perfect or doing what others want.
A heart surfacing through the unconditional love of Jesus, shown through people: the hugs and kisses of a one year old nephew, of walking alongside sisters through widowhood and marriage, of brothers letting me into their lives, and parents’ nurture and prayer.
A heart surfacing through giving 100 percent, of being rejected, but still having hope to heal and teach again.
I still have hope…for my life, for my city, for my world…
An engaged heart means deeper pain, but deeper hope.
Cottonwood trees crackle and infuse dusty leafiness into the air as you run past.
Prairie grassland pop with purple asters and goldenrod, next to the dancing lake.
Autumn north winds whisk the water into liquid bouncing gray-greenness.
Waves topped with diamonds splashing off the peak and fall down to do it again.
City autumn has the same reds and golds as other places, but has attitude.