Tag: Sunday Soul

Soul Sunday

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

Good morning. My regular readers know that I devote Sundays to poetry on the blog. I don’t have a poem today. I don’t have a poem in any way. I’m not sharing one I wrote. But what I have, is wrote in quote. Poets don’t always write in rhyme – for that, they don’t always have the time. Sometimes poets just really have wise things to say, and so that is what I am sharing with you today.

“I have never started a poem whose end I knew. Writing a poem is discovering.” – Robert Frost

“Poetry is the clear expression of mixed feelings.” – W. H. Auden

“If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry.” – Emily Dickinson

“A picture is a poem without words.” – Horace

“Poetry is nearer to vital truth than history.” – Plato

“If poetry and the arts do anything, they can fortify your inner life, your inwardness.” – Seamus Heaney

“A poet looks at the world the way a man looks at a woman.” – Wallace Stevens

“To have great poets, there must be great audiences.” – Walt Whitman

Thank you for being my great audience, readers. I love you. Have a blessed, poetic Sunday. <3 (Write a poem. Discover the ending. Make sense of your mixed feelings. Blow your own mind, or perhaps just take a photo and see the poetry in it. Find the vital truth that only your deepest inwardness knows. Fall in love with yourself through your words. You are a great poet, even if the only audience is yourself. <3 )

Soul Sunday

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

Good morning. My regular readers know that Sundays are devoted to poetry on the blog. Poetry says things like no other form writing can. It evokes imagery, emotion, and thoughtfulness and it reminds us of our inner wisdom and power. I found a collection of excellent famous poems about the strength of women to share on the blog this morning. I think that this is apropos for this time period in history, don’t you? My belief is that our biggest superpower which all of we women possess is that we are continually underestimated. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.

“We don’t dare to appreciate her
We don’t care to her feelings,
Nor her dreams.
She swallows her pride
To serve us might.” – Penpal

“You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.” – Maya Angelou

“But there’s wisdom in women, of more than they have known,
And thoughts go blowing through them, are wiser than their own.” -Rupert Brooke

poem by Nikita Gill

Soul Sunday

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

Happy Father’s Day!! It was so interesting raising our four children, together with my husband. There are many times when I watched my husband in awe. I would think, (perhaps with a little bit of competitive chagrin) “Oh, wow, he handled that so much better than I did.” There is no doubt in any of our minds that my husband is entirely devoted to our family. We are his purpose and his passion and for that, I am forever grateful.

Sundays are devoted to poetry on the blog. Poetry speaks in the movement of spirit. In many ways, poetry is otherworldly. It offers portals into other unseen places. My son is taking a Stress Management course this summer (a course required by his university’s business management program. This is good progress.) Yesterday, my son had to color a mandala, as an assignment for the class. Now coloring and art has never been his forte, and so when he showed his finished assignment, he was poking fun at some of his color choices and coloring outside of the lines. I reminded him that coloring the mandala was never about the end result, but more so about the mindfulness of doing the project, and the relaxation that this would bring. This is the same with writing poetry. It requires concentration and diving deep. The end result really isn’t all that important. Poems that speak to me, might not speak to you. But the poets, when writing the poems, spoke to themselves, from the depths of their own souls and from the wilds of their own imaginations, and time stood still for them. Listen to your wild soul today. Write down the poem and hear what it has to say to you. Here is my poem for the day:

You are the best gift which I ever gave to our children

Your steadfastness, your devotion, your selflessness,

Allowed me to build a soft nest on a solid, steady, rock,

That remained unbroken and safe, even in the worst of storms.

Your strong arms held us steadfast through it all,

And I never questioned that they wouldn’t.

I have loved your strong arms, since they first held me.

And I can think of no better arms to hold tight our family.

Soul Sunday

Good morning. Please use today to soothe your soul, to reset your batteries, to clean the windows to your perspectives, and to fill your heart with gratitude. That’s what Sundays are really good for – the “re-words” such as rejuvenation, reinvigoration, renewal, revitalization, refreshment, and restoration. All of these words suggest “making new”. Use Sunday to make new of what is old and tired and clouded and fading in you. ReSunday yourself. It will be a lovely way to start the week.

Sundays are devoted to poetry on the blog. Poetry is mysterious, intimate, clever and open. Write some poetry today to help ReSunday yourself. You won’t regret it. Here is my poem for today:

“I Am A Witness“

I am old enough to have been a witness to a lot of things.

Perhaps this is the truest gift which our aging brings.

I am a witness to so much triumph over hurt and loss.

I am a witness to the intricate, such as a large rock covered in moss.

I am a witness to breathtaking natural beauty, day after day.

When I allow myself the time to watch the miraculous display.

I am witness to all of my own sensations,

I am witness to my feelings and frustrations.

I am the witness who feverishly writes it all down,

As my hair is graying, from its once rich brown.

It’s the witnesses who bring clarity to what has gone on,

Facts and perspectives, mixed and weighed upon.

So much time we play at being judge, jury and litigators,

When in truth, we are mostly natural witnesses and mitigators.

I am a watcher. I am a witness. I hear. I feel. I see.

Please share what you witness with yourself, and with me.

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

Soul Sunday

My husband came home from an important business trip on Friday. Our family’s schedule has been so clogged up. This week the calendar is finally starting to look like the days will flow into something a little more clear, manageable, and sensible. My husband said to me this morning that he hopes that it’s a rainy day today. There is something about rainy days that insist on your relaxation like no other kind of day. It appears quite sunny out right now, but there’s always hope for later in the day. As Sunday is devoted to poetry on the blog, this is one of the best poems ever written about rain:

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

Soul Sunday

My blog is devoted to poetry on Sundays. Poetry has a way of penetrating one’s emotions like no other form of communication. I read this poem, which I am going to share below, the day after the Texas elementary school shooting massacre. When I looked for a good copy of it to share today on the blog, I found it in the form of a Ted Talk. I can think of no better poem to share today than The Opposites Game by Brendan Constantine:

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

Soul Sunday

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

Good morning, readers. Today is poetry day on the blog. It’s always fun to play with words and that is what poetry is – just playing with words. When our children are little, and they are trying to communicate, we often say to them, “Use your words.” Today I say, “Play with your words.” Here is what came out of my own word play today (Have a wonderful rest of your weekend!! Stay in the moment and savor it all.):

When you were my baby girl, I fondly gazed at your tiny toes,

And when you were a little girl, I dressed you up in bows.

When you were in middle school, I soothed your highs and lows,

And when you were in high school, we loved shopping for your clothes,

Watching you graduate yesterday, my face glows and my heart grows,

You are a golden girl who will have a wonderful life, this your mother knows.

Soul Sunday

Sundays are devoted to poetry on the blog. Poetry is the music and mystery of our hearts. Lately I have been publishing other people’s poetry. With our daughter, who is the youngest of our four children, about to graduate from high school next week, I’ve been keeping the box around my heart, a little more tightly locked. I find poetry to be the most emotional form of writing and I’m not quite ready to unlock the box and let my emotions flow out torrentially, just quite yet. So instead, in the spirit of being on our road trip, I looked up poems about travel and I really liked this one:

Enjoy a beautiful Sunday, friends! Live the poetry of your heart.

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

Soul Sunday

Happy Mother’s Day!!! I know quite a few of my readers out there are mothers like me. There is no experience out there like mothering, is there? Mothering brings out your fiercest side, and yet also your most fearful side, all at the same time. Mothering shows you the depth and the power of your love, and yet also the fragile petals of your own vulnerability. You enter into mothering, willingly and enthusiastically signing on to the dotted line of a lifelong contract, agreeing to something that you really have no idea actually what to expect, and just when you think that you have it all figured out, the seasons change and who you are as a woman and who you are as a mother changes with those seasons, and this metamorphosis happens, again and again, throughout your entire life. It’s daunting and extraordinary. Mothering is the most amazing, overwhelming, vital adventure of my life and I couldn’t be more grateful to the four beautiful souls who call me their mother, for this incredible journey and experience of mothering them. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Sundays are devoted to poetry on the blog. Much like Shel Silverstein’s book, The Giving Tree is supposed to be an allegory of parenting and unconditional love, I think that this beautiful poem by Rumi is the perfect allegory to the required selflessness that comes from being a mother:

The sun never says by Rumi Poem Canvas Print Poetry Print image 1

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

Soul Sunday

Good morning! Happy May Day! Rabbit Rabbit Rabbit (represents good luck on the first day of any month for superstitious people like me) We have had an eventful weekend. My daughter truly enjoyed herself at her senior prom last night, and today we are bringing home our youngest son from his university for the summer. I haven’t had too much time to focus my mind on writing poetry. My brain seems stuck on “to-do” lists lately. My regular readers know that my blog is all about poetry on Sundays. Poetry is the language of the soul. Poetry is each of our own personal languages. Write yourself a poem today. You won’t regret it. I’ll probably doodle a poem on the way home from the university later this evening. But since I must get on the road soon, here is a poem I found on the internet that marks the merry month of May. May is a special, gentle, kind, warm month, isn’t it? It lovingly marks so many beautiful endings like graduations, and the end of spring, but also exciting, happy beginnings like the delicious, anticipatory start of summer. Here is today’s poem:

May And The Poets - May And The Poets Poem by James Henry Leigh Hunt

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