“When a Mother dies, the children sleep on a leaf” (WC)

 

(Wendy Cabell, Bright Week 2025. Image is connected with Bright Friday's theme of the Life-Giving Fountain of the Most Holy Theotokos, from here.)

“When a Mother dies, the children sleep on a leaf”

(complied/adapted from Slow Noodles by Chantha Nguon*)

When you lose your Mother, you lose the roof over your head.

You lose the rice in your bowl.

What single seed from your old life 

will help you sow a new one? 

You will know, as you roll out your moments 

like you roll out your slow noodles —

      

                        one by one, 

                                     deliberately, 

                                                      and with love.

Follow your puppy sense. It knows that time equals love, 

and love equals deliciousness.

Put your trust in God, and in each other, not in gold. 

Play the role of a defeated subject when necessary.

Remain undefeated in the important ways wherever possible.

These ingredients for Mom’s Silken Rebellion, you will need them --

But you are ready.

You have her recipes.

*Compiled/adapted from Chantha Nguon, Slow Noodles: A Cambodian Memoir of Love, Loss, and Family Recipes. This piece is a found poem crafted with words and phrases found in this book and used in a new way. 

Green Above//Green Below (WC)

 

(Wendy Cabell, July 11, 2024, feast day of Our Lady of Carmine ("painting shows the infant St. John the Baptist pointing to the Child Jesus"), Our Lady of the Le Puy ("one of the oldest sanctuaries dedicated to the Mother of God"), the (above) Rzhevsk Icon of the Mother of God (connected with Pentecost), the Three Hands Icon of the Mother of God (or June 28 Julian calendar; also July 12 / 25), Saint Benedict, Saint Euphemia and Saint Olga. On Jewish calendar today is Ezekiel's Vision of the "Chariot" (429 BC). Image is from here.)

Green Above

Green Below

(a blackout poem*)

When I first

          saw the land

                            fresh land

                                               

                                    I  cracked 

                          open my soul.              

    I am now distinctly aware,

  a forcefield — 

a 

   field 

      of 

         stars

             defending, 

               comforting, 

                   healing. 

*Blackout poem created from article “Green Above and Green Below” by Eve Grubin, from Lubavitch International, Spring-Summer issue, 2024. From prompt given to do a blackout poem, from Kim Malinowski’s Poetry Salon class of July 8, 2024; poem revisited/revised July 11, 2024.

With Due Ceremony (WC)

 

(Wendy Cabell, June 5, 2024, feast day of the (above) Blessed Virgin of Help, and the Icon of the Mother of God of Igor. On Jewish calendar today is the Passing of Samuel (877 BC) and Jerusalem Liberated (1967). Image from here.) 

With Due Ceremony

(a found poem)

I firmly believe in lunch

sweet stopping-fueling-sighing —

though I can pass right on by the stopping part

perhaps the most important part, its look

round at morning’s accomplishments, 

short siesta, soft bow before next bend —

         and most magical of questions:

                      “What’s next?

*After fellow BRWers Betty Fannelli (line 5, beg. line 6) and Gerri Gutwein (end line 6, line 7-8) from their freewrites, used with permission, June 5, 2024 BreatheReadWrite.

*From prompt: Finish the thought of “I believe in lunch”. From Lisa Freedman’s BreatheReadWrite, June 5, 2024. 

Hurray Sunday (WC)

 

(Wendy Cabell, November 26, 2023, feast day of Our Lady of Soufanieh (from which: "God saves me, Jesus enlightens me, the Holy Spirit is my life, thus I fear nothing."), Our Lady of the Mountains, and Blessed Delphine of Glandèves. On Jewish calendar today Talmud completed (475). Image from here.)

Hurray Sunday

(though it can be any day, every day)

If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life 

is thank you, it will be enough. -–Meister Eckhart.

Hurray Sunday is inspired by the idea floating around out there of writing thank you cards on Thanksgiving. Which never seems to happen at our house. But we’ve been thinking, this Sunday following might just be the perfect time. That is, if it’s kept simple, perhaps an image (some favorite freebies here, here) with a short note. A “Hurray, so thankful for you!”. Which is also inspired by 94 year old Patricia (Patsy) Garlan‘s awesome philosophy of “a rumbling, tumbling ‘Yay!’ every day”, shared recently at Mythica’s Gratitude Cafe. To which, and to many more, a big…Hurray!

Praying (WC)

 

(Wendy Cabell, November 24, 2023, Day after Thanksgiving, Afterfeast of the Entry of the Most Holy Mother of God into the Temple, feast day of Our Lady of Montserrat, Saint Katherine of Alexandria, Saint Mastridia of Alexandria and Blessed Maria Anna Sala. Image from here.)

Praying 

(a found poem)

not for what I want to be

but to be opened by what is here

a rumbling tumbling

“Yay”--everyday!

*Lines (heard at Kayleen Asbo (of Mythica)’s Gratitude Cafe, November 24, 2023) are from Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer and Patricia (Patsy) Garlan, respectively, used with permission.

Mothering (WC)

  

(November 10, 2023, feast day of Our Lady of Anosivolakely, Our Lady of Last Agony ("'And after this our exile, show unto us the Blessed fruit of thy womb, Jesus.' A true servant of Mary cannot perish..."), and Pope Saint Leo the Great. Image is from family photo album, Great Grandma Otten's restaurant, 1920's, California.)

Mothering 

(much needed about now; a found/group poem)

Closed hearts perhaps just needing a lift,

all of them kissed and hugged us 

as if we were the most wonderful children in the world–-

It could be on any menu, today’s special on any day

*Lines from self, Suzanne Westhues and Lisa Freedman (used with permission), in that order. From prompt: Freewrite as inspired by “Kissing in Vietnamese” by Ocean Vuong. From Lisa Freedman’s BreatheReadWrite, November 5, 2023. 

Homefront (WC)

(Wendy Cabell, October 22, feast day of the Interior Life of Mary, Our Lady of the Underground, Our Lady of  Talant, the Kazan Icon of the Mother of God, the Andronicus Icon of the Mother of God, the "Seven Sleepers” of Ephesus, (above) Saint Mary Salome Disciple of Jesus (wife of Zebedee and Mother of Saints James and John, Apostles), Pope Saint John Paul II and Blessed Lucia Bartolini Rucellai. Jewish calendar today marks the "return to everyday activities following the spirituality of the festival-rich month of Tishrei." Image from here (and another irresistible teacherly Saint here.)

Homefront 

(a found poem)

One of my teachers always said to me 

‘In the face of great destruction, create.’

—Sue Ellen Parkinson, Iconographer

 

books papers chalk–-

a world apart, a place to dream

Light overcoming darkness

*Guest Poet Betty Fanelli’s awesome freewrite above (used with permission) is based on her childhood memories during World War II. She later became a much loved teacher herself, in Special Ed.

**From prompt: Freewrite as inspired by “Teachers” by Will Schutt. From Lisa Freedman’s BreatheReadWrite Studio Time, October 21, 2023.

Doves (GP Jean Esteve)

 

(By guest poet Jean Esteve, a previously written poem revisited here on November 23, 2021. Image painted by Jean Esteve.)

Doves

Together and always

together

they arrive at my back yard,

misappearing as a solid

of feathers --

a gossimer cloud

that lands with a gutteral thud.

Each year they increase

in number

still showing themselves in a clump.

So adoring of only

one another

pitch they their camp

with a mutual heart-beat-like thump.

Do they think their unique

mutuality

excludes them from nature's true nature?

Or perhaps it's their 

singular beauty --

no creature wears better

such slices of gleam (pink, blue, green) in its sweater,

not reckoning that my 

true-heart, Spot,

whose raison d'etre's to keep me amused,

employs his long-nosed best

break-shot

wagging enthusiasm

at his shrewdest wild carom, cradle, masse, roquet.

Depths (GP Leah Shrifter)

 

(By guest poet Leah Shrifter, a previously written poem revisited January 29, 2021. Image from here.)

Depths

Echoes,

a forgotten life

clings to the black hollow

within the fallen tree

ravished by wildfires.

Ignored

despair yields to

(nothing else to do but)

hope,

persist

through an empty

tunneled universe.

Somewhere

there could be sun.

Maybe I am

The Golden String (GP Dan Stein)

(Guest poet Dan Stein (his webpage here) shares a previously written poem revisited January 28, 2021. Image from here.)

The Golden String

          I give you the end of a golden string

          Only wind it into a ball.

          It will lead you in at Heaven’s Gate

          Built in Jerusalem’s wall.

          -William Blake

Here is a bead.

Tie it to the end of the golden string

and gently reel in the world.

Any bead will do

but only your hand.

That’s why it was placed so near to you.

If you get lost,

start at the end;

work backwards.

Be un-industrious.

The string rolls up

with or without your effort.

Finally, dear one, remember:

Once the bead is on the string,

please don’t let go.