cronechronicler

Exploring the poetry of everyday life

Haiku: Islands in the Sun

Iron patio chairs
Stalwart remnants of Summer
Take on a new life

Retrieved from storage
Optimistic sun-seekers
Awaiting the Spring

Random arrangement
Solitary testament
To power of hope

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Haiku: Alchemy of Aging

Days become more still
Old siren songs grow quieter
I hear new drumbeat

Amazing freedom
Choreographs day’s tempo
Measured steps suit me

Laughter and lightness
Transform binding to-do lists
To “catch as catch can”

I watch with wonder
Diminishing energy
Re-shapes my desires

Life has new balance
I find joy in small things
Transformed into gold

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Ode to a Crinkly Green Glass

One of a set that once graced our table
An elegant juice glass, emerald-green and dimpled
Now cherished remnant you are part of my morning
I fill you with water to drink with my pills
Still I remember

You were one of six glasses
There were five of us
Sipping our orange juice.
Three sons eating Captain Crunch
And we parents our oatmeal

Five glasses were scattered
Or shattered, quite disappeared
Children grew up and went on their way
Parents marriage arrived at its sad end
Yet you a single green glass survived

One crinkly green glass
You shine in bright sunlight
Years later reminder of family life
And stories passed on to six grandchildren
Who go on beyond us. I wish them each a green glass.

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Haiku: Spring Nudgings

Leaf buds unfurling
Squirrels nip them for dinner
Life cycles in gear

Pool cover removed
We await fresh blue water
Still wearing jackets

Moon in the night sky
Ever waxing and waning
Some things are constant

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Haiku: Medium as Message

Window pane raindrops
Exclamation points slant-wise
Forecast the weather

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Haiku: Yin and Yang of Memory

Memories cherished
Flowing deep gentle waters
Snag on hidden rocks.

Colleen’s Poetry Challenge #28
http://wp.me/p4xNpg-4xC

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Mom’s Pearls of Wisdom

Doing my Christmas shopping last year I was stumped at what to get for my son Bob and his family. They were going to California to be with my daughter-in-law Linda’s family and were planning excursions to Big Sur and skiing near Lake Tahoe. I didn’t want to add any large sized gifts to their luggage but wanted my gift to be special since my oldest grandson Bobby would be a Freshman in college next year. This was the last Christmas “as it always was” for them. Then a lightbulb went off in my head.

Buying a fresh Christmas tree and decorating it together was a huge tradition in their family. Over the years I had given Bob and Linda crystal angels, stars and snow flakes to hang on the tree. For Bobby and his brother James it was Fisher Price toys and Thomas the Tank engine train sets before their interest turned to Pac-Man and beyond and I had to ask their parents for suggestions. This special year I thought the perfect gift would be ornaments for everyone in the family. Part of the fun for me is shopping around for just the right gift for each person. Then I imagined how they would love the surprise as they unwrapped their new ornaments and decorated the tree. And afterwards cherish the memory.

This wasn’t to be. Getting off to California was quite a production and eclipsed the gift of Christmas ornaments. When my son and his family got back I heard how each person had experienced something uniquely suited to them and what a grand adventure the trip turned out to be. I was thrilled to hear their stories. Maybe next year when it is time to get out all the ornaments for another tree “my” ornaments will come to light.

I learned that you can’t make a memory for somebody else. Loved ones and children will weave their own experience from shared tales into a memory and then it becomes precious to them.

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Haiku: Morning Exercise

Newspaper crumples
Reduced now to a small square
Just word-puzzle sized

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Haiku: Redeeming Words

Depression’s gray clouds
Hovering weight overhead
Felled with word’s penning

Precious beyond words
The Word Press community
We can be healers

Hopeful, despairing
Angry, judging, lamenting
Words written freely

Speak into hearing
Allay fears for grim future
We are not alone.

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A Prosaic Back Story

I found my Haiku “Good Housekeeping” forgotten among my drafts and published it yesterday. The classical elements Fire, Water, Wind and Earth that my poetry alludes to have been a part of my morning meditations for a quarter of a century.

I light a candle and drink my coffee. Fire is the flame that begins with my striking a match. Without air the candle would not burn. Earth is all around me in my potted plants. Water keeps them alive. My meditations have nourished me and kept me connected with God and the universe.

Lately I lament the sea-change of our world moving on a wave of violence. I shed tears over the burning of cities and homes. I mourn the disregard for the basic needs of human and animal life, and our planet. Fire, Water, Wind and Earth surround us still. I pray for winds of change to blow us toward justice.

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