Hope Leaps Like a Fox in Winter

 

Surreal Artwork by Ronald Ong

Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse #151

Come join us!

Love must be as much a light as a flame. ~Henry David Thoreau

My weary hands ache

from all the holding on

and the letting go

that is the cost of greedy hands

 and a hasty heart

there was once a time

 when you were the warmth to my winter

the flame my hands held close to

but fast fires can only burn so long

the burning house sooner or later falls to ash

a rubble one must walk away from

the season comes and goes

but my heart always hopes for more

it leaps like a fox in winter

and holds tight to all it finds

it can be a heavy burden

in the loss of letting go.

 

 

 

The Magnificence of Hope

"Indigo Sky Mares" by Laurel Burch

Click HERE for her website.

Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse #147

Some things have to be believed to be seen. ~Ralph Hodgson

Magnificence surrounds us

it touches sky and souls like wings

it is all a true miracle

from birth to passing on

the freedom to inhale

to see and truly be

I am blessed to have known you

the one that made me surely see

the vision of hope is a freedom

a force as wild as horses with no fence

it is mine and yours to tame and ride

If only we truly will.

 

My Heart is a Roaming Lion

 

Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse # 124

Come join us!

I feel your embrace in my deepest of dreams

and I realize love is a refuge that cannot be torn down

bullets are feathers that carry no weight

hatchets cannot swing that far

death is a bridge we all must cross

heading north

but love is a compass that points in all directions

back before I knew the ache

of an empty chair at the table

my heart was a roaming lion

and your love was a tree branching out

that kept me safe

I rested upon you full weight

the fear of falling never crossed my mind

my heart had never known the pounding

of hitting the ground so hard

now I roam streets on my own

hunting for places

that no longer stand before me

yet I feel your embrace in my deepest of dreams

and I have come to know

love is a refuge

that cannot be torn down.

The Temple Doors are Always Open

Photo Credit

"People see God every day, they just don't recognize him." ~Pearl Bailey

The oldest cathedral that can be found
has no doors nor walls
the windows are stained by God's own brush
and the bell tolls by the song sparrow's call
we need not venture to the alter
for we may kneel right where we stand
for like the smallest of branches
God is always reaching out His loving hands.

©Carrie Van Horn 2020

A Ship Half Empty

Linking with Flash Fiction 55 over at Verse Escape 

where we write a poem or what inspires us in exactly 55 words.

Thank you Joy for a wonderful prompt!

Come join us everyone!

I dream of far places

where gulls glide Atlantic Seas like ships

there I am alone among multitudes

yet the only voices I can hear

are ghosts of yesterday

old and ragged I whisper

 the tireless question

 why no matter where I venture

I remain a child hoping for my mother to hear my cry.

Hunters of Truth

Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse # 90

Come join us!

“They seemed to be staring at the dark, but their eyes were watching God.”

~ Zora Neale Hurston

The poet’s heart is a fox that sees the world in darkness and in light

his eyes pregnant with possibilities and yet empty from the fight

It is an inner struggle to recollect and yet a hunt that drives him further from his home

A quest into the wilds of hunger among the many creatures yet still alone

You see life is sharpened arrows yet doves that shall fly far beyond harms way

It is the winds of a thousand storms, but one companion that keeps him safe

All the beauty within starlight and the hurt that blinds him from the seen

Are the questions that keep him hunting for a reason to believe

For the poet is a dreamer that ponders meaning while searching for hope in flight

And he hunts the darkest of forests longing to capture the truest light.

Hold On

Photo by Evie Shaffer from Pexels

Linking with Toni’s wonderful Wed Muse

It is a music, non-music prompt.

Come join us!

   I am broken but I will not bend

  And I will not move on like the fickle wind

Here I am with everything I own

A suitcase with my heart alone

Do not open the door and make me depart

Just open your arms and take my heart

For I am broken but I will not bend

And I will not move on like the fickle wind

I am a fire, and a warmth that is true

I hold it all for only you

Do not stay cold and leave me lonely

Hold me close in love’s true ceremony

For I am broken but I will not bend

And I will not move on like the fickle wind

I took a chance and changed your way of life

Now I hope you will hold on and also change mine.

Poetry of the Sea

Photo by Erik Johansson Master Photo-Manipulation Artist

Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse # 61
come join us!

The ocean does not preach a sermon

Though it has much to tell

That it shares with the moon and every sea shell

It bravely tells as it swells to the shore

Deep like a poet that speaks high to the sea gulls that soar

But Its stories are not heard by man and his makings

For he does not hear when he is too busy taking

He builds and he builds as he strips from the land

It is a sad truth widely known by each grain of sand

So the sea keeps on moving and reaching out

Whispering a message of longing that is true no doubt

For The ocean does not preach a sermon

Though it has much to say

It is heard not in man’s churches but in each unsettling wave.

©Carrie Van Horn 2019

Souls & Horses

Photo by Tatiana from Pexels

Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse # 58
Come join us!

Horses and children, I often think, have a lot of the good sense there is in the world.  ~Josephine Demott Robinson

Like ghosts we walk through miracles never knowing how close we come

For we cannot see what we do not believe

But in another life we were horses

Where no fences gated our hearts

Free to be what we truly were

We galloped far beyond what could be seen

Grazing truth all the while

And always hungry for more

Like a mighty wind our spirits pushed through

Making themselves known to all

For freedom does not linger on regret

Nor feed on darkness

It moves on gallantly in the light of day

and those willing to let go

Will dare to jump any fence that comes their way

But that was another life and time

The rising dust of a distant star

Here we walk through miracles never knowing how close we come

Ghosts cannot touch, but merely pass by in silence

And we cannot see what we do not believe.

©Carrie Van Horn 2019

A Mighty Ocean and a Magnificent God

Image Source

~This is a response to a beautiful poetry prompt book given to me by my dear daughter Amber.~
Each page of the prompt book is a different word subject. This one is:
The Ocean

Let God's promises shine on your problems. ~Corrie Ten Boom

“It is bigger than we are” he said to me,

 speaking of the affliction of addiction

 evading our youngest son.

My heart had long since broken in countless pieces,

like grains of sand along the shore.

You see, the love we have

for our children

is a force that grows with time

and their struggles and heartbreak

are a sorrow we also hold just as tight.

Fears and hopes can be mighty things,

like an ocean across the horizon

becoming all we can see

but like a gentle soul once told me,

“God is bigger and He is with us.”

It is an awe-inspiring truth,

that God the maker of the universe

chooses to dwell within us

yet is gentle enough to ask.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Many miracles and sorrows

have happened since that day.

My son is now whole in Christ,

and so are the pieces of my heart.

Whenever I think of what God can do

 I think of the beautiful and mighty ocean,

and when I stand before the sea

It is our beautiful and mighty God

that I truly see.

©Carrie Van Horn 2019

That Lone Rose in that Desolate Land

Courtesy Google Images

Linking with The Sunday Muse for Muse # 31

Hello everyone, I apologize in advance for this one.  Story writing is my weakness and I ventured out of my comfort zone writing this one.

Hope is the lone bloom in the desert. ~Terri Guillemets

Her name was Silencia and the only world she had known was Eldernan.  A planet on the far side of the galaxy.  Many of the occupants had evacuated to other solar systems, but she had remained with her grandfather in his later years.  He had been gone for many months now, but her opportunity to flee had long passed.   The cities were full of shelters for the few that had stayed behind.  There had been 300 different shuttles arranged to get people out, but none of the shuttles had returned.  Fortunately, the storage pods of food and necessities had been enough so far.  The multitude were long gone, and the feared disease that had killed millions on the continent of Gronell had been annihilated by some scientists in that region.   The communication they had with the shuttles had been lost half way through the mission to other home planets, and the engineers and scientists had not been able to regain the connection to them.  Oddly, the climate suffered some strange changes after that time, and the land became unfertile in many areas. After a few years had passed, on days loud with machines doing construction the city, she would venture out to the desolate land of Pralo to find silence and try not to remember all that she had lost.  She would close her eyes and envision a different world.  One full of hope, beauty and life.  She would be wearing her long lost christine dress that was for the annual festivities in the city she grew up in, Rolem.   She would remember the songs and then sing them to what life was willing to listen.  Sometimes there would be a wild bird or rabbit that would cross her path briefly.  Other times, it was a few weeds or a grass hopper clinging to life.  The song was simple, but the melody was beautiful and would stick in your head for days on end.  She would find herself singing it through the streets and back to the shelter she had been at for the last 3 years.  “Reach for a rose…..but do not pick it from where it stands….just touch it’s beauty and then hold the beauty in your hand….reach for a rose….but do not pick it from the place it blooms…..just touch it’s beauty before it is gone all too soon.”  It was a song her mother sang during the days of normal living conditions of Eldernan.    It was like a lullaby, but for Silencia it had become an anthem, and when she sang it, she would reach out her hand to the most beautiful rose she pictured inside her mind.  She felt like she could relate to that lone rose in that desolate land.   If only just one shuttle would return, she thought.  She would gladly let it pick her up and take her away!

True Real Estate

Image Source

"My friends are my estate."  Emily Dickinson

One stormy night I sat on the cement floor of a shelter
wearing the only clothes I had with me
not sure what I would go back home to
whether anything would be salvageable
or if I would have a home
a place
 with all my stuff
it seems
I spent years collecting things
lots of things
stuffed in boxes
hung in closets
stored in bags
piled on piles
because
I had
no equity
or investment
in property
no land
to call my own
but I had things
everything you
could think of
I had it.......
.......but it took losing it
to remind me that
my true friends and family
are the things in my life
that matter most.



I do know this much is true.....losing everything you own never compares to losing those we love.  For no matter how bad of a day those days in a shelter would have been, they could never be as bad as days I had known losing those I love in this world.


I dedicate this piece to those who have true real estate in heaven and in our hearts:

Lauren NicoleThackeray
Seth Michael Stewart
Terry Tod Thackeray
Carol Thackeray
William Clyde Odeneal
Hazel Covington Odeneal
Vaude Van Horn
Virginia Katherine Van Horn
Parkes Van Horn
Dorothy Van Horn
Bill Odeneal Sr.
Carrie Lee Meredith
Harry Van Horn
Lou Odeneal
Leah Odeneal
Margaret Boatman
Barbara Van Horn
Katherine Odeneal Marco
James Marco Jr.
Benji Baldridge
Tony Thackeray I
Heather Thackeray
George Thackeray I
Edith Thackeray
George Thackeray II
George Thackeray III
Teddy Thackeray
Tom Thackeray
Little Tom Thackeray
Gail Thackeray
Parks Wayne Van Horn
Lisa Grace Van Horn

Image source

Drink Up

Courtesy Google Images

Linking with Poets United for Poetry Pantry # 425


The tragedy of life is not so much what men suffer, but rather what they miss.

~Thomas Carlyle

We define ourselves
 not by the struggles that we have in life
 but rather by the way we face them
 and handle their affect day by day
 that decides what we become.
  Life and the battles we face are not a respecter of persons
  They do not withhold the blessings nor the strife.
  They come together with the air that feeds our lungs
 like a cup and saucer for us to drink up.
  Some of us sip it cautiously
 and others swallow it wholeheartedly
 and enjoy every drop.
 Drink up my friend!  
Drink up!

Opportunity * Hope * Purpose

Courtesy Google Images

Linking with The Sunday Muse for Muse # 23

I can't wait all my life
On a street of broken dreams.
~Journey

Hope is not a second cousin once removed that lives in a far away state
it is as close as a dear child planting kisses upon your face.

Opportunity is not some rock star that lives in California that you will never meet
it is countless pebbles along your path right at your feet.

Purpose is not a mountain top that you could never reach
it is anyone's chair that sits in an alley way so just walk up and take a seat.

The Inertia of the Heart

Image Source

Linking with The Sunday Muse and also with Imaginary Gardens for The Tuesday Platform
come join us!


For you see, each day I love you more
Today more than yesterday and less than tomorrow.
~Rosemonde Gerard

Love is a force that keeps on moving long after the great fall’s end.

Breaking passed safety into danger’s call disregarding life and limb.

It flies head first through broken glass; it leaps blindly into seas and lakes.

Love runs into burning buildings and never stops until all souls are safe.

Love ventures out to the farthest redwood branch never looking down in fear.

It has a mighty focus to reach out boldly to all that it holds dear.

It crawls swiftly inside the lion’s den.  It keeps swimming alongside sharks,

and like the trail of skidding tires on pavement, it always leaves its mark.

For love is a force that keeps on moving long after the sudden crash.

Reaching beyond this world we know into Heaven’s mighty grasp.

Note:

They say you cannot take it with you; all the fortunes we acquire in this world, and I am certain that is true, but there is another thing I am sure of; LOVE can.  Love is the one thing that we not only take with us when we pass, but it is also, the one thing, we truly leave behind within the hearts of those we hold dear.  Love surely is a mighty force that even the hands of war and hate cannot destroy nor stop. 

Regret Is a Two Lane Road

Image Source

Linking with The Sunday Muse for Muse # 16 and Imaginary Gardens for The Tuesday Platform

Come join us!


Life is an adventure in forgiveness. ~Norman Cousins

All the places I have been do not whisper in my ear like a shy child

It is the places I have never been but should have gone

That tap me on the shoulder in the middle of the night

Demanding my undivided attention

Regrets are like that

Cousins of a certain loss

Yet strangers

Divided like the lines on a road

Branches of the same tree that head in different directions

One is the grief of mistakes made

The other the loss of opportunities that no longer are ahead

That we should have grasped whole heartedly when we could

For the regret of our mistakes is a sorrow that can be forgiven

Sooner than a country mile

But forgiving ourselves for words unspoken or visits to loved ones never taken

Is a heartache that holds a certain agony

That can be a life long journey to let go.

Note:

My maternal grandmother had agoraphobia, and the only time she left her home was to vote.  As a child I never really realized the abnormality in it.  She just never went with us, and we would bring back dinner for her sometimes, even though she thought that you had to be careful about restaurants cause the food could be tampered with.   As years passed, and I had a home.  I settled into a routine of my own, and though I had gone on several trips out of state as a younger adult and into my 30’s I found myself having a certain anxiety with trips that went very far out of town.  I decided that I had agoraphobia on a grander scale.  I could leave my home, leave my town, but the minute I am heading on a long trip far away, I am in a mental episode of anxiety.  I think I have shared this before on earlier posts, but I felt this important to share again because it has caused me much regret when it comes to who I have visited and where I have gone. It seems I have really held myself back and stifled my own chances of seeing great things, or visiting those I hold dear.  The saddest part is, there are several people that I have lost the opportunity to see again, and I only have my own fear to blame.  This is a hard road to take when you carry that kind of guilt.  I can only say, I am working on it.  May your roads ahead be full of opportunities taken.  That is my wish for us all!

The Sound of Loneliness


Linking with The Sunday Muse for # 14
and Imaginary Gardens for the Tuesday Platform brought to us by the lovely Sanaa
come join us!

Silence is a sounding thing, to one who listens hungrily.  ~Gwendolyn Bennett


Loneliness is a song I learned in the echoed voice of large halls
searching for my own words when other's spoke nothing at all
where empty rooms held a certain grief that could swallow you whole
and windows were like distant mirrors of all I longed to know 
Somehow I carried the ballad with me through years from place to place
and the words linger within me as silence within a crowded space
I remember the verse most clearly not in solitude from the crowd
but in busy public places is where it becomes truly loud.



Note:

Sometimes loneliness can be like lightning bolts of emptiness in a world full of hurt, but in this world there is also hope.  We all face certain struggles in our journey, and those struggles can be different as night and day.  Mine have been childhood loss, loneliness and a yearning for normalcy in the past that I never truly had.  But in our different struggles we have the opportunity to be there for each other.  To lend a listening ear, shoulder to cry on, or kindness and support.  Yes silence has a sound but so too does hope and I am learning hope's song like a child one note at a time. 

Explorers of Hope

Linking with Poets United for Mid Week Motif ~Human
Also linking with Imaginary Gardens for The Tuesday Platform brought to us by the lovely Sanaa
and because my thyroid medicine has made me feel so much better I am also linking with The Sunday Muse Come join us!


Your children are not your children.  They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.  ~Kahlil Gibran


We fly like sparks from the flickering flame
out toward greener pastures
our cells fueled by stardust
Halley's Comet racing across the sky
we leave our mark in due time
for every sparrow soon learns to fly
by leaping wings first
 from tree limb
or giving hands
humans are souls 
that search for 
meaning
marvel
and purpose
beyond the confines of home

explorers of hope

from one generation to another
grandfather to grandson
Earth to Moon
Moon to Mars
dreams expand
like wings in flight
we are dreamers indeed
our cells are fueled by stardust
and like all loving children
we will one day return
to what our souls call home
the glittering heavens