24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
“The woods are lovely, dark, and deep” – Robert Frost, Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening
Delving into depths of branch protected tenderness
How did you discover the meadow?
It was well Hidden
Almost too intensely green
A sighing breeze
intoxicating in its comfort
Vulnerable to misunderstanding.
Step gently
for beneath your feet
the ground trembles to the hopeful touch
Of possibility.a
Mandy Austin Cook
How did you get so
Red? Did careless painted hills
shove you to the side?
Wonder! beauty! when
You burst a vessel, reaching
For freedom’s blue sky
Did you bleed out or
Simply lost some leaves that had
Faded to fuchsia?
After the rain
the sun will shine
though clouds may still linger
still showing signs of gray;
those clouds must give way to a brighter day
filled with promise and hope
that all is right with the world.
After the rain
the green grass
stands tall
The flowers
in splendid glory
take note and smile
a beautiful smile
of recognition
that they have not long to live,
but their beauty unparalleled they long to give.
After the rain
all creatures
great and small
bask in the fragrance
and luster of drops
that make puddles and lakes
a place to enjoy and shed
their cares of life
washed by cleansing
drops of rain
ready to endure a new adventure
that life will unfold.
After the rain
After the rain
all the earth is a new
after the rain.
The freshness, the purity;
none can explain
what magic
of life endures
until after the rain.
Debra A. K. Thompson
Why do they care for summer?
Cicadas sing to bats who shriek,
Searching for their meal this evening
And they’ll find just what they seek
A meal’s a bounty in Summer’s set
The sun’s not set and will rise early
Though Night complains you’re tired surely
The Day ignores him with her light
A warmth seeps up from pavement
As Day sleepily comes down,
I can finally get some rest
As the world transitions to evening sounds.
The brightest evening of the year
Makes it hard to sleep I fear.
I much prefer the winter
Ice cracks to echoing Night
Who sings in sweet abandon
Shadows loom and frost does bite
While Night plays as Day’s stand-in
Sun’s set was early, a serenade
And she won’t rise til later
Day does not complain,
But rests long, still as a glacier
A chill comes down upon the breath
As Day refuses rising,
I am comfy in my bed
And though it’s morning on the clock
The darkest evening of the year.
Sleeps in my embrace, held dear
The line “The darkest evening of the year” is lifted from Robert Frost’s Poem Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening
As a vagabond or a traveller-
You can call me at any word.
But I wish to see the outskirt,
I want to know the meaning of life.
For this mission, I have taken one promise.
To find out, the essence of existence on earth.
Birth is God’s boon.
We must take that in deepest mind.
After strolling a long period,
I have stopped near a forest.
I need some water to drink
A pond is beside this.
I’m drinking water.
Oh! GOD You’re awesome.
You have made this platform.
We don’t know how to cope?
“The darkest evening of the year.”
I can see I can hear.
I can abolish all unwanted fears
I can feel the meaning of birth.
Nothing is perpetual here,
We’re playing some roles.
So happy by that attire,
After a certain time, see the world.
A world with so many colours.
A world is full of vibes.
Mind is gleeful to see that,
God is smiling afterall.
He tells once more-
Want to know the meaning of life?
Close your eyes and open inner eyes-
You can feel— who you’re?
I can’t forget this time,
I’m finding out the answer.
At each Prayer moment,
You can feel the essence.
That’s the real thing,
To see to say-
Thank you so much dear God,
For helping to overcome this evening.
I tire of the blue sky,
overdone simplicity to match
my ritual of morning coffee.
I drift back to when the sun
peaks against the horizon.
Rich hues of reds, oranges,
and pinks dance a purpose
of surrounding my world.
So too do the clouds, on a
glorious summer afternoon.
Is that a sailboat or a pup?
The mind questions everything
with a canvas clothed in vividness.
Collective
Soul searching
If it touches me, how can it not reach you
Thoughts alone
Hearts together
Breathe and be one
Collective mind,
a hive mind.
Working together,
everyone pulling their weight.
No job unimportant,
no one unneeded.
A perfect society,
a perfect life.
Run run run
Feel strained feet
Breathe breathe breathe
Feel growing heat
Push push push
Sweat cold shiver
Drip drip drop
Wash away the dust
It’s a balancing act
Both motherhood and the stairs.
We teeter
Tiny fingers wrapped around grime
Covered metal bars.
You don’t touch those
You touch the rail
But the rails eludes her,
Even on her tippiest toes.
Also, the choice:
Grime or germs.
My hand grips hers
My other arm lugs.
Used to lug a red wagon
Canvas and steel frame
30 pounds of steel shooting messages
Through my arm muscles
Straight to my brain
“Are you stupid?”
“No really, how stupid?”
Message received.
Better knock it off before that arm is off limits for a week.
Now it is some food up number
11 pounds.
Ok.
You guys got this.
Don’t fall backwards.
Yeah, thanks brain.
No really, if you slip back you are dragging her with you.
I go upstairs dozens of times a day.
Sludging
Slogging
Sighing.
I never fall back.
But the fear makes me obsessed.
God, her hands need a wipe.
She must be obsessed too
With the possibility
Of the worst.
Swipe and repeat.
More stairs
Everywhere.
Every station
At my house.
At times I walk miles.
Half a mile sure.
1 mile ok.
Hell, up to three.
Sweat glazing my face.
Blisters staking claim on my big toes.
Worn area skin where sandal strap eats flesh.
Blurry eyes from saline drips.
All that
To avoid another damn climb.