cronechronicler

Exploring the poetry of everyday life

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My blog announces I’ll explore
The poetry of every day
Newly I have found alas
My everyday has changed

First I blamed my muse
Lazy creature distant
Unavailable to inspire
Or to awaken me

The tree outside my window
And the view
Clouds in dawning sky
Tell me no tales

Family life is bubbling
A stew of new developments
Demands attention
And my energy

Changes unpoetical I think
Call for language spoken best in prose
Stories full of life and real
Ah, my muse awaits me just off stage

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Enscribing the Heavens from This side

My son Donovan chose these words as the title of a book containing the first two years of my Cronechronicler posts that he collected and had published in 2016. The poet David Whyte used them in his poem Journey in his book The House of Belonging. Whyte writes that “sometimes it takes a great sky to find that small, bright and indescribable wedge of freedom in your own heart”.

For two years more I have searched that sky and found inspiration in the poetry of everyday life. I have found freedom to trust my muse and the words that come to me as I look at the colors of the dawn clouds or enjoy watching a squirrel couple build its nest. I hope in time to collect my Haiku and create another book. For interested readers my original book can be found at https://www.amazon.com/Enscribing-Heavens-This-Side-cronechronicler/dp/1530407133.

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Haiku: RX For An Introvert

Holidays over
Return of reality
Time for stock-taking

People-filled moments
Exciting rich nourishment
Stuffed me to bursting

Moorings abandoned
Flying carpet crash-landed
Lost touch with myself

Crave balm of silence
Time for quiet introspection
Awaiting my words

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Haiku: Holiday Confession

Holiday hustle
Dawn to dusk rich commotion
Signs of the season

Good food and shopping
Joy of friends and loved ones
Bright lights on the tree

Lovely potpourri
Overpowers my poet
She’s hibernating

Poet will awake
When dark depths of winter come
And stillness returns

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Senryu: A Revelation

Charmed by the brief form
Inspired by life’s happenings
Wrote many Haiku

Then I awoke to
Expanded definition –
A “human” Haiku

Perfect description
Poetry I’ve been writing
Instead is Senryu.

With appreciation to Colleen Chesebro who teaches me good things

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Haiku: Ostrich No More

Poet in me slept
Escaping circumstances
Of a world gone mad

High time to awake
Stir my juices, let words flow
With my mighty pen

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Haiku: Daily Prompt – Privacy

Time alone is gold
To an introvert like me
Precious currency

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Alchemy

Imagine dawn sky dressed in pink-ribboned clouds
Trees green-leaved in summer
Changing colors for autumn
Sobered by stillness of bare-branched winter
Chilling cold and deep silence.

Imagine a mother of sons and grandchildren
Heart filled with wonder, love, joy
And trepidation
World is near changing
Beyond recognition.

Imagine aging a worthy challenge
Rich adventures and exploring
Forge wisdom a gift
Hard-won and enduring
Unknown roads lie ahead

But for today the sun is shining
Golden hours to seize and embrace.
Shadows, too, can be lovely
I’ll plumb them tomorrow.
Translating my life into poems.

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A Rose By Any Other Name

In June when I visited my son Donovan Hart he gave me a remarkable gift. He put in my hands a book titled Enscribing the Heavens from This Side by Ina Hamilton Hart. Donovan had collected Cronechronicler posts written by Vivachange77 from May 2014 through April 2016 and had them published by Amazon. He wrote the pieces about the book and the author on the last page and on the back of the book. My granddaughter Leela contributed her drawing of a crone.

Over the summer we made a few edits. In September Donovan published the book in paperback and on Kindle. Last week Colleen Chesebro ~ Fairy Whisperer reviewed my book on her blog and posted her review on Amazon.com. So far so good. I wanted to shout my news to the blog world but wasn’t clear how to do this. Then I discovered that Amazon.com misspelled Cronechronicler on their website in a subtitle they added. Amazon made the correction for me. When I checked, I was dismayed to find that now capital letters were missing from the main title. Twice I’ve talked to someone at Amazon who promised to fix the problem, but to no avail. It is like a Rubix cube puzzle I can’t solve.

I began my blog with the intention of creating a legacy of family stories and writing new stories and poems revealing the woman I am becoming. I am delighted to have a real book to give to family members and friends. I don’t know a sleek way of inserting a blue link in a blog post to let my followers know where to find my book. If you go to Amazon.com the old-fashioned way and write Enscribing the Heavens from This Side it will take you to my book. Disregard the absence of capital letters and some weird punctuation. It is still a rose.

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Everyday Inspiration Day Six: Where My Writing Happens

My writing begins where it will. This morning I was in my living room chair reading the Sunday paper when the neighborhood geese flew overhead. A haiku began to unwind in my mind. I reached for a notepad  and pen in the end table drawer and jotted down the first two lines, then sketched out a few more. Later I will give the haiku its final form on my desktop computer .

Last winter I had a dialogue with the early dawn sky and its amazing pink stripes. Every morning I found a new image I used to describe the  stripes. Sometimes the image came to me as I ate breakfast facing the window. I would tear off a scrap of paper from the daily news and write down the thought before it drifted away. A compelling first line was all it took for a haiku to grow.

Writing about my travels or family stories happens another way. I have boxes filled with travel itineraries, notes and pictures of the places I’ve been stored in freezer-sized Ziploc bags. I love to revisit a trip and re-live it in my mind’s eye. Writing brings up more memories. Family stories come to mind from pictures and letters stored in boxes and from objects that have accompanied me whenever I moved. I also write about my family in the present. The actual stories take shape as I write on my computer – sometimes prose and sometimes poetry.

The objects in the  room where I write are  visible reminders of my journey. By the window there is a child’s desk that belonged to one of my sons. A futon and a lamp occupied my computer room in the last place I lived. A maple chair  from my first house  after I was married sits in the corner. The drop-leaf table that matches it is in my kitchen. My Diplomas are on the wall. A picture of a cowboy riding his horse on the winding road of Texas ranch, which was a wedding present to my parents,  hangs over the futon.  My father was from Texas. There is a wooden wall clock in the shape of Ohio, where I now live, that ticks as I type. On the  window ledge is a large coffee mug with the name of the college I attended. My computer, glass computer table, office chair,  printer and the table it sits on are  newcomers. Four green house plants are my living companions.

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