Walking Tour

Walking to the street car
Trudging through the snow
Ambling to the coffee shop
Finding warmth aglow…

Flying first on airplane
Rumbling on a train
Taking trips at one time
I would never take again…

Walking through the storefronts
Trudging through the snow
Ambling through a foreign land
Finding what I know!


Memories of my trips to Germany, with thanks to Petra for doing all that walking with me! Written for Anmol’s prompt at
dVerse.

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Remembering Birth

Every mother remembers her child’s birthday. But my son’s is a kind of birth day for me as well. Full-term and healthy, just born in his own time and place.

I wake early, eat breakfast, and talk to my mother before she goes on with her day. She says something along the lines of, “You look like you’re about to pop.” I respond, “Well, the baby will come soon.” She asks, “Today?” I say, “No, I don’t think so.”

I feel great. Later, I lie down to rest. On a trip to the bathroom, our golden retriever wines and starts following me. At the time I don’t understand why; I think she’s sad because the rest of the family isn’t home. But she knows more than I do.

March does indeed come in like a lion. It’s very cold and windy. I decide to take a warm bath. And I’m only in the tub a few minutes when the pressure begins. I won’t say it hurts. I believe it’s too fast, too shocking to hurt. Simply put, my baby wants to come into this world, and there’s nothing I can do about it. So I don’t, just let the miracle of nature take its course, with the dog, bless her heart, outside the bathroom door. On that day my son is born, and some new spirit is born in me.

baby born unplanned
riding on the wind and cold
child of the Lamb


Haibun for the “memorial” prompt at
dVerse.

Blind and Blessed

Blind and Blessed

by Frederick Douglass Grimes, III

A Bird sits in a tree.
Ships sail over the seas.

What’s life’s destiny for you and me?
Can the Blind truly see?

If not, are we really free?
Or just slaves to the darkness, unending and deep?

With the inner eye, we can see the truth,
Each one of us, down to me and you.

Who are we then to judge another?
After all, are we not sister and brother?

We live in the shadows every day
With only the Light of the Lord to guide the way.

At times the peace we feel can’t be replaced,
Not taking part in the hustle and bustle,
Nor giving into the chase.

Life is surely fast enough.
Take time to sit and ponder
And deal with your inner stuff.

Even in darkness we show no fear,
Because God is with us, always near.

His plan has already been mapped out;
It’s up to us to carry it out.

Your faith in God should never be broken.
These words ring true. The Blind Poet has spoken! 🙂
–The Blind Poet, Freddy G.

Shared for OpenLinkNight #244 at
dVerse.

Lovecycle

As in and out the seasons flow
And days go by, some fast, some slow,
With things I can or cannot bear;
Through change, unchanging love we share.

By day I wake, by night I sleep
(Or not) and then a vigil keep.
I know both hope and deep despair;
Through change, unchanging love we share.

The path is lit; the way is dark.
The slightest rustle leaves a mark.
I walk through fog and clearest air;
Through change, unchanging love we share.

As in and out the seasons flow,
Through change, unchanging love we share.


This poem is a
Kyrielle Sonnet.

Glass Houses

Glass Houses

by Frederick Douglass Grimes, III

Where do you live?
What’s your address?

Do you reside on
Live and Let Live Blvd?

Or is your happy home on
Judgment Ave?

You must ask yourself this question…
Or not,
only if you care enough
to consider your neighbors.

We all live
in life’s glass houses,
and no one is perfect –
even relatively close.

Think for a minute.
Life would be boring
if we all were perfect!

We would instantly know
what our neighbors think of us,
and that could cause many problems.

As life is now,
anyone can tell you
anything.
And who’s to know
if it be truth or fiction?

What a world that would be indeed!
That old adage always rings true:

Those who live in glass houses
should not
throw
stones!

And remember…
We all live
in life’s
glass houses!
–The Blind Poet, Freddy G.

Shared for OpenLinkNight #243 at
dVerse.