Tag: Sunday Soul

Soul Sunday

This quote below is poetic enough for Soul Sunday (a day that we devote to poetry on the blog.) When worded just right, the shortest of statements can hold a volume of poignancy and emotion that would otherwise get leaked and lost in unnecessary ramblings. “Unknown” is perhaps one of the greatest wordsmiths of our time.

None of us truly knows who/what we would die for (no matter what we think, or what we casually and dramatically declare), until we are actually faced with the ultimate, dire choice. Thank you, fallen soldiers. Thank you for your last breaths. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Soul Sunday

Good morning. This weekend has been me, a little frazzled, trying to keep up with the energy-filled, used to late nights, pulsating, youthful city Jones. I’m happily satiated and depleted all at once. As my regular readers know, Sundays are dedicated to poetry on the blog. Here is the poem I wrote for today (What poem are you going to write today?)

The Grandmothers

Last night we laughed and we both beamed with pride,

Watching and gazing at our beautiful children,

Both of us mothers of two determined, compassionate companions.

I looked at you with new eyes last night,

Secretly supposing that one day,

It is quite possible that both of us will gaze at a precious, beloved child,

Who will lovingly look back at us, and know us both as adoring grandmothers.

And that’s when I felt a connection to you like I never had before.

How beautiful the web of love is, which quietly holds us all together.

Quietly spinning in the background, the future stories of entwined lives.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Soul Sunday

credit: @AmadorBatten, Twitter

I thought that the above “card” was better than a poem today. Certain holidays that bring up so much joy, also can bring up an intense amount of pain. Remember, no matter what, today is just a day. And there is no one true definition of love. . . LOVE IS.

And to my children: being your mother is undoubtedly the greatest experience of my life. I love you all, intensely, gently, yet ferociously, forever and ever and ever.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Soul Sunday

Good, serene morning to you. I’ve read about this poem in three different sources lately, so I took it as a sign to share it this Sunday, on the poetry day of the blog. Poems say so much more than what is on the page. This poem speaks of long lasting mature love. Wendell Berry captures it beautifully and succinctly in the poem below. (Write your own poem today and capture a little bit of the essence of your own soul. I assure you that you will be astonished by your soul’s beauty and clarity.)

The Blue Robe
By Wendell Berry

How joyful to be together, alone
as when we first were joined
in our little house by the river
long ago, except that now we know

each other, as we did not then;
and now instead of two stories fumbling
to meet, we belong to one story
that the two, joining, made. And now

we touch each other with the tenderness
of mortals, who know themselves:
how joyful to feel the heart quake

at the sight of a grandmother,
old friend in the morning light,
beautiful in her blue robe!

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Soul Sunday

Good morning. One thing that I loved about Italy, is that everyone greeted each other, all day long. It would have been utterly rude if you didn’t say, “Buongiorno” to anyone and everyone whom you came across, throughout your day. So, Buongiorno!! “Grazie” (thank you) and “Prego” (your welcome) were also so liberally used by everyone, that I am having a hard time not saying them constantly, even here at home. The Italians have such a friendly, warm, inviting culture.

I hope that this beautiful Sunday finds you well. I feel so lucky to have this blog to come home to, and to look forward to writing every morning. It was good for me that I took a break from writing my blog, only because it made me truly appreciate just how much writing the blog means to me. Absence does make the heart grow fonder. Here is my poem that I wrote for today. (I hope that you will write one, too. Soul Sunday is supposed to inspire the poets in all of us.)

“The Antiquities”

She was exhausted from the endless beauty . . .

One marble statue equally as exquisite as the next . . .

Their individual magnificence was lost to the mass of them . . .

Airly, she remarked:

“Perhaps, they should have made less of them,

In order for their individual perfection to be truly appreciated.”

“My dear!” he laughed. “Did you think that they made them for you?

Is it your belief that they made these statues for eager tourists,

and greedy museum goers, hundreds of years into the future?

Let me ask you this: ‘How many pictures do you have on your phone?’

Your photographs hold your memories for you,

And your memories are primarily for you.

These statues, my love, were their pictures, their memories and their experiences.

These statues were primarily for their own selves,

And yet they were kind enough to leave them behind.

You, my dear, are a voyeur borrowing their own fond, many memories, left in stone.”

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Soul Sunday

Good morning. I hope that you have a nice warm cup of coffee (or whatever your favorite morning beverage is) right near you, as you read this post. Sundays are for poetry on the blog. I also hope that you have a neat little notebook and a pen that you particularly love to write with, right next to your neat little notebook. I hope that you plan to write yourself a poem this quiet, beautiful morning. Poems are love notes to yourself.

Years ago I wrote a blog post that people seemed to really like and relate to, as it pops up as being read again and again, throughout the years. Here it is, if you are interested: https://kellyfoota.com/?s=thank+yourself or you can just search “Thank Yourself” on my blog search function.

I found this poem yesterday by a writer on Twitter, that has that same tone of my blog post. I love it, and as April begins, it’s a good poem to start the month out with, for sure (credit: @ronwritings, Twitter):

Another post I noticed on Twitter yesterday, was a post by Dr. Nicole LaPera. She asked her followers: “When was your first memory of feeling loved?” It hurt my heart, to read so many posts by readers that stated that it took well into their early adulthoods to feel loved. Some people posted that they have never felt loved. After reading a few of these tweets, I went right to our family chat, sent my family a picture of that tweet, and I wrote to my four children: “I don’t know how you guys would answer this, but I hope that you know how much your Dad and I love you, from the very start. Where you’d you get your start?” and then I added six heart emojis. And that last question is an inside family joke. Of course, this text message then turned into a family lovefest, but it honestly wasn’t a fishing expedition of mine. I wanted to be sure that my children feel loved. People need to know they are loved.

People need love. People need to feel love, and to feel loved. Why would we ever be stingy about sharing the most abundant and renewable force of energy that exists in our world? Today, love yourself. Show love to people. Be love. Feel love. It’s everywhere and it’s everything.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Soul Sunday

Good morning. Happy Sunday. Happy Poetry on the Blog Day. We were up until the wee hours last night reminiscing with dear, old friends with whom we reunited with yesterday. Unfortunately my mind is too foggy for poetry making, and I have to get ready for brunch.

Life itself is a good epic poem, going along to the beats and the cadences of our own individual rhythms. Write some poetry today, or live some poetry today. The dictionary says that “poetic” means having a dramatic, sensitive, emotional way of expressing oneself. Live fully. Live poetically.

Are you passing on love, or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Soul Sunday

Good morning. Welcome to poetry day on the blog. I am a fledgling poet. Poetry is not my first language in writing. Still I enjoy the process of trying to write poetry, and I believe that in attempting to write poems, channels develop to the center of my creative flow. No matter what your first creative language is, in writing, or in any of the other arts, try writing a poem today. It may spring a little channel to parts of you, earlier unknown. Today’s poem starts with a quote I read from the film, Elegy. (see the highlighted stanzas). I gave myself an “assignment” to turn this quote into a poem. Assign yourself something creative today. This will help you to “grow up” and to mature in beautiful, ageless ways.

Don’t worry about growing old.

Worry about growing up.

To gain maturity, takes a level of bold.

Whereas aging can be done by many a pup.

The wise elders are worth their weight in gold.

Becoming the lessons of their tests, sup by sup.

While still a blessing, many of us will grow old.

But in the circle of enlightened, few will make up.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Soul Sunday

Good morning. Welcome to poetry day on the blog. I saw this poem posted on a Twitter account earlier this week and I took a picture of it because I knew that I wanted to share it here, on the blog this Sunday. I love the irony and the cleverness of the poem. I hope that the daylight saving time isn’t messing with you too much today. At some time, write a poem today. You won’t regret it. (You can start at noon and save a lot of time. 😉 )

Why Did It 

by William J. Harris

Why did it

take all

day

to get nothing

accomplished

Why, I could

have started

at noon

& saved a lot

of time

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Soul Sunday

Good morning. Sundays are poetry day on the blog. I experienced an incident recently that inspired the poem that I wrote below. Pick a recent event in your life that sticks with you, and commemorate and honor it with a poem. This is what poets do. And all of us are poets in our own way.

You showed up with tact and grace.

I showed up with “in your face.”

Luckily, I took the pause.

I kept the words between my jaws.

I watched you communicate what I wanted to say,

But peppered with kindness and love was your way.

It’s great to be an old dog learning new tricks.

From the other old dogs, who are in the mix.

What is the purpose of the friends in your life?

Besides entertainment and support for your strife?

Friends help you to learn to be a better you.

They often see the better you, before you even do.

Friends are mirrors, travel companions, and vessels of love,

Friends are gifts you give to yourself, with help from above.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.