Christmas Dawn

This poem, written and published in my first poetry collection titled ‘Journey On: Beauty and Grit Along the Way, is accompanied by a translation into Latvian.
 

Christmas Dawn 
 
I awake in the Christmas dawn light; 
a shimmering snowfall 

echoes upon the mountains. 
Through parted curtains,  

my curious eyes follow 
a shaking of snow 

from pine needled branches. 
 
An opera of sun slowly takes over; 
erasing long blue gray shadows. 
We lie under the soft warmth 

of the red plaid comforter, 
meeting the moment  

of a gentle and tender us. 

 
 

Ziemassvētku Ausma 

(Latvian) 

 

Es pamostos Ziemassvētku ausmas gaisma; 

spīdīgs sniegputenis atbalsojas kalnos. 

Ar šķīrušiem aizkariemmanas interesantas acis seko 

sniega raupšana no priedes adatas zariem. 

 

Saules lāva pārņem opera; 

dzēšot garas zilas pelēkas ēnas. 

Mēs gulējam zem sarkanā pleds mierīgā siltā siltuma, 

satikties ar maigu un maigu mirkli. 

Journey On

DSC00687
It’s time to become acquainted with
a new season and embrace a limitless horizon,
vast and mysterious.

No longer desiring
to be held back,
a long silence stirs awake.
My life map unfolds;
a new journey begins…

revealing new dreams
with the same heart.

 

 

Haiku in Autumn

Reprinted from a journal entry October 2010


One of the main reasons why I started this “blog”-(I am not a fan of the word ‘blog’) was to help my mind declutter and crack through a writer’s wall that has been plaguing me for months and months. And so with the help of my photography, my dear friends in my writer’s group-who by the way are going through the same thing-and wanting to get my momentum back, a suggestion to write haiku poems came my way. I snuffed at the thought at first…mainly because I have taught haiku to my students for many years. Teaching haiku, counting beats and trying to take words to make them into poems in this way reminds me of the required poetry books that teachers make kids to with 10 different kinds of poems. I have seen this over and over again as students dread writing, dread poetry and even more so dread getting it all done. Recently one October afternoon three of us sat a Panera Bread with tablets and pens, computer and mouse and drinks. We mulled over how do we write again ideas, fears of not writing again, along with just try something ideas. I pulled up my recent photos from a trek to Colorado’s high country of stunning aspen gold surrounded by brilliant sunshine and that Rocky Mountain High blue. I wrote 4 long descriptive sentences in which I was trying to say too much. I cut out use less words and it was looking hopeful. Doris suggested why don’t I write a haiku and I groaned based upon those reasons I talked about above. What I came up with is not great, but not bad either…I love new beginnings….

Crisp sunlight paints
aspen gold into
cloisters of singing color.

Autumn river rushes
over boulder and wood
towards winter’s death.

Writing what I experience-not what I know…exactly

I write free verse only; I am partial to the flow of eloquent and rich language. I cannot rhyme or do metered poetry or sonnets-it reminds me of teaching language arts daily to my students at school.  I do not care for writing prompts set up by someone else’s idea of what a writing subject should be. My writing “prompts” come from observing details of the world around me, what I am seeing in the moment, what I am feeling or what I have remembered from an experience in my life.  As an example, in the poem The Wedding Ring Quilt, there is a direct relationship between my words and my writing what I have experienced…not exactly the typical writer’s mantra of “write what you know”:

THE WEDDING RING QUILT

This morning, the first snow of spring

kept falling like a curtain of lace across the mountains,

spilling remnants of winter

down into the stunted pine brushed valley.

“I hope it snows six feet,” I said.

Warm, weathered hands

gathered our wedding ring quilt

around the curve of me,

knowing the soft why of my words.