Borders are what divide us, but are also where we meet.
The prompt word today was “Border.”
Borders
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Tag Archives: Daily Prompt. Faith
Heading South
Heading South
My friend put on her traveling gown
for London was her sort of town
where mouths share tales and shoulders rub
when friends or strangers meet at the pub.
My friend put on her traveling gown
for Paris was her sort of town—
gone to the boulevard to eat
where strangers she perchance would meet.
A demitasse or two, or more,
a shared baguette or petit four—
approachable down to the bone.
Better not to eat alone.
She was a traveler, born to roam
when she was not ensconced in home.
Back home, a cat upon her lap.
Away from home, a well-creased map.
On maps, the south is always down,
be it Paris or London town.
So be not sad or down at mouth.
Our friend is merely going south!
As I grow older, I like to think
one day we’ll meet there for a drink.
Well-versed, our friend will show us where
to sip our coffee in open air.
Or snuggle in for shepherd’s pie
in company fit for roving eye.
To lift a pint or raise a glass
once we have joined her there en masse.
(Word came yesterday that my friend of 49 years had passed away in a London hotel room, where she was just finishing up a month long vacation. If you haven’t read yesterday’s post, go HERE.)
Marilyn suggested this song which my poem reminded her of. It is one of my favorites, so I’m including it here…the link provided by okcforgottenman. In his words, ‘It is Fort Worth Blues, written by Steve Earle in tribute to the then recent passing of Townes Van Zandt. You can see him sing it –HERE- in a Townes tribute on Austin City Limits. It’s a worthy tribute to Grimmer, too, I think.’
Voice
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “In Good Faith.” Describe a memory or encounter in which you considered your faith, religion, spirituality — or lack of — for the first time.
Voice
The stranger on an airplane in the seat right next to me
never said a single word, and so I let her be
until our arrival, when I prepared to stand
and she produced a paperback—put it in my hand.
“It’s time for you to read this,” she said, then went away.
I didn’t say a word to her. Didn’t know what to say.
That book, however, changed my life and attitude and choices—
encouraged me to listen close to interior voices.
Buscaglia, Jampolsky and all of Carl Jung’s books
drew my mind away from appearances and looks
and into that finer world of instinct and of mind;
then drew me westward to the sea and others of my kind.
After a writer’s function, a stranger sent to me
“The Process of Intuition,” which I read from A to Z.
I read it twenty times or so, then sent it to a friend.
Then bought up every copy left to give as gifts and lend.
I don’t remember talking to the one who sent it to me,
but if I need a proof of faith, I guess that this will do me.
For I believe there is some force that draws the next thing through me
and if I follow instincts that hint and prod and clue me,
they are the truths that guide me on the path towards the new me.
The signs are there in all our lives if we choose to see.
No, I don’t believe a God guides our destinies.
I don’t believe in lifelines or spirits within trees.
I don’t believe in any faith that has a name or church.
I do believe, however, that I’m guided in my search
by something that unites us and sets our pathways right
so long as we listen to our own interior sight
that urges us to follow the right side of our brain
even though those choices are logically inane.
I know that it takes many types of brains to run the world,
but for me it’s intuition that when carefully unfurled
guides me best—towards art and words and unplanned days and oceans
and prompts me make a Bible of what others may call notions.
And so to simplify I’d say that I must have faith in
that voice we’re all a part of that speaks to us from within.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 