poem: somewhere between solitude and loneliness

 

poem: somewhere between solitude and loneliness

being here now in solitary existence
somewhere between solitude and loneliness
reflecting on recent events and experiences:
aging, disease, injury, separation, siloing,
the world and its totalizing systems

struggling, striving, sitting with challenges,
reconciling the grace of our being,
the preciousness of our life together,
and the amazing beauty of our Earth Home
with tender heart and teary eyes

busy, tired, and weary at times,
continuing at my task knowing
that we can bear it together
through connecting, belonging, and sharing,
grateful for authentic relationships and community

sitting quietly, listening,studying, reflecting, creating,
and connecting continue in this busy season of the suffering
arriving as an unexpected guest at my door,
each invited in and treated with truth and respect

Herb Stone
here&now working poetry
June 21, 2022
art by Andrew Wyeth, ‘Christina Olsen, Triton’
Author’s note: I have struggled to write this, or anything else down, for over a
week. Knowing that sharing one’s suffering is very unfashionable in our
contemporary culture and society of everyone for themselves, I hesitate. I do not
share my poem from the perspective of being a victim, or a denier, or a masochist,
or from a place of apathy. Rather, I share from the perspective of witnessing,
better understanding, gifting, connecting, authentic belonging, and healing in the
tension of our suffering and our joie de vivre! The last three lines of stanza four
are after Rumi’s poem ‘The Guest House.”

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: sitting at the hospital manifesting a healing

poem: sitting at the hospital
manifesting a healing

exiting the great facade
of the cavernous hospital
shaking off its stupification
stepping into the pristine light

bird sounds transport me
into the present moment
flower scents rife
in their perfumery awaken the soul

my morning nature walk
to the big pin oak tree
its gnarly bark rough to the touch
grounding my Body on the Good Earth

at the midpoint
reversing course back to the room
five minute cross legged sitting zazen
unclutters my Mind

connecting with the Heart chakra
energy of the Spirit flowing
through the body’s energy channels
filling our being with Love

Body, Mind, Spirit
re-balancing here and now
prepared for the new day
meeting it in each present moment

expecting a healing

Herb Stone
here&now working poetry
April 24, 2022

photos by author

Author’s note: Our sixth day of my
wife’s hospital stay, I am finally clear and able to express some of our experiences. We turn and open to the healing energy of
the Cosmos as well as utilizing her
professional care. Her rehab and healing
is challenging, slow, and promising. Our
hope to return home soon.

Reflection: On Aging’s Bad Breaks 

Reflection: On Aging’s Bad Breaks 

My first two thoughts: we get plenty of ‘em, and aging is not for the timid. 

My beloved wife fell this past Monday and fractured her ankle. A stumble and a fall in the blink of an eye.  A good thing we were home, and she fell on the carpeted floor. 

It is a bad break to fall in the fragility of our aging, and breaking a bone is just plain bad anytime. After writing my poem for Cathey, ‘I got you,’ suddenly I did not as I was too far away to catch her. 

With the strength of our love, our deep trust in one another, and critically, a resilient sense of humor, we meet these challenges and those to come.  

I love what Anne Lamont recently said on her Facebook page about turning 68. After opining what is left for those of us aging who have witnessed the foolishness, evil, tragedies, and suffering of the world, she says: “So what does that leave? Glad you asked: the answer is simple. A few very best friends with whom you can share your truth. That’s the main thing”, and “we look up. In 68 years, I have never seen a boring sky. I have never felt blasé about the moon, or birdsong, or paperwhites.” 

Ah yes, in our aging, we cling to a few dear friends, sharing our truth and belonging, and looking up and around at the beauty surrounding us.  Please send prayers and healing energy for Cathey and a good recovery for her.

We send each of you our love, gratitude, and appreciation!

 

 

haiku: late snow

haiku: late snow

the late winter snow
covering the Lenten Rose
Easter’s lily comes

Herb Stone
here&now working poetry
March 13, 2022

images unattributed

Author’s note: We had a big,
cold winter snow in Nashville
yesterday. About six inches
deep, and I thought of the
Lenten Rose I had seen
blooming a few day before
on a much warmer day.