haiku: flickering memories

haiku: flickering memories

Totties’ white crochet
in Fall’s dancing light adorns
the royal blue chair

Herb Stone
here&now working poetry
October 31, 2022

photo by author

author’s note: remembering my maternal grandmother, Aline Feustel Martin (1889-1979), who we grandchildren called Tottie all her life.

poem: her great nest of being

poem: her great nest of being

her eyes are heavy, head nodding
sun down, light fading
memories of a girl in wildflowers

the blue-eyed grass is in bloom
the wild garlic is growing
the lilies are budding

Earth Home in her rhythm
manifesting symbiosis
all creation included and connected

Herb Stone
here&now working poetry
May 8, 2022

for Cathey

photos by author

poem: gathering of the ole 66’ers (a tribute to ole friends)

poem: gathering of the ole 66’ers
(a tribute to ole friends)friends since school days,
graduating together fifty six
years ago, ole in the sense
of a beloved thing long lasting,
dependable, and trustworthy

gathering and sharing, grateful
for the story of us all and those lost
to us or who have gone before,
and our lives all this time later,
our spirits lighten and lift

having lived long, gathering still,
in the mutuality of relationships
long standing, our friendships giving
value to our survival, thriving in
authentic communities of belonging

sweet memories of our halcyon days,
together, depending on each other
to be there for the gathering now,
beloved ole 66’ers, as we walk each
other home

Herb Stone
here&now working poetry
March 18, 2022

photos by author

Author’s note: Fifty-six years ago in 1966,
we all graduated from high school together and
continue to gather regularly. Grateful for the
enduring grace and glory of these beloved ole
friends.

poem: remembering why I write (when words are slow to come)

poem: remembering why I write
(when words are slow to come)

on this journey
through the Cosmos
and beyond into
the Great Mystery

Life is beautiful
and holy whole
filled with stories
worthy of remembering

making sense
knowing meaning
finding purpose
fitting it all together

yes, writing down the bones
of this world, Self,
relationships, and community;
of our one wild and precious life

Herb Stone
here&now working poetry
February 14, 2022

art: uncredited cover art to the book
The Crack in the Cosmic Egg by
Joseph Chilton Pearce

Author’s note: Quotes in my poem:
‘Writing Down the Bones’ is a book
by Natalie Goldberg, and ‘one wild and
precious life’ is from Mary Oliver’s
iconic poem ‘The Summer Day.’

Finding myself at an interstice in the
journey, words slow to come,
remembering why I write, and what
Annie Dillard wrote about “The gaps
are the spirit’s one home….Go up into
the gaps.” And so I go, writing it down.

tanka: the murmuring of flowing water

tanka: the murmuring
of flowing watersitting by the stream
silently in solitude
with mindful presence
water’s memory runs deep
flowing home to ancient seas

Herb Stone
here&now working poetry
January 16, 2022

video by author

Author’s note: I wish to thank
my English friends,
Emma Hepburn and Rosie Dowbekin,
for their love of the beautiful
streams in England, which
inspired me to write this tanka
poem. I am forever grateful
for your inspiration.

Click on video and turn up sound to hear the murmuring stream

poem: beauty’s healing hope rising

poem: beauty’s healing hope rising

recalling the beauty of life
amid the roses and the thrones
always pulls me back
to the both/and wholeness
of here and now

thus remembering

that late Fall light in the Hudson Valley
a favorite literary quote
a snippet of poetry or music
loves most pure moments shared
the haelin of True Self
belonging and walking each other Home

take a deep breathe
loosen your grip
open your hands
opening and turning around
fully embracing and sharing
beauty’s healing hope rising

Herb Stone
here&now working poetry
December 4, 2021

music by Ennio Morricone
and performed by Yo-Yo Ma
‘Giuseppe Tornatore Suite’

poem: a sweet visit to Toddy’s house

poem: a sweet visit to Toddy’s house

exiting Toddy’s house
through the large kitchen
onto the screened porch
down the steep back stairs

across the backyard
out to the alley
then right four blocks
to the corner bakery

peering in the huge glass front
with the huge glass display cases
always filled completely
with cookies, pies, cakes, and rolls

entering the store
with its colorful display
and comforting aroma
enveloping all

with a pocket of change
one could buy a white paper sack
filled with their delicious
pastel, buttery, shortbread cookies

and for a bit more
the whitecake with creamy, white icing,
a chocolate meringue or chess pie,
or some fresh Parker House rolls

then on the way back, stopping
by the corner drugstore, its doorbell tingling,
and its wood slate floor, and high ceiling fan
hanging from the tin roof

buying an ice cold bottle of Coke
to wash it all down, a sugar high,
before the hike back up
to Toddy’s kitchen

there one would always find Toddy
in her apron smiling widely, knowingly,
preparing food at the big sink
as steamy pots cooked on the cast iron stove

Herb Stone
here&now working poetry
December 2, 2021

images family photos of Toddy
Becker’s Bakery unattributed

Author’s Note: Toddy was my maternal
grandmother. Everyone called her Toddy
which was a nickname from her childhood.
The bakery us grandkids visited was
Becker’s Bakery founded in 1925, which
was one of Nashville’s best bakeries for
decades until closing a few years ago and
always one of the most popular. Getting
something there was always a treat, and we
were close enough to walk when at
Grandmother’s (Toddy’s) house.