May the road rise up to meet you*
And the challenges before you
Be just under what defeats you!
And still may you be assured to
Keep on going in the Presence
Of the Life that gives you living!
May the road rise up to meet you
And your taking be forgiving!
*Old Irish blessing.
—
Written for
#Threethingschallenge #498.
The earth is home to many lives!
They’re seen as “other,” not as one;
We give our love to few besides.
The earth is home to many lives!
The Universe for all provides
Enough to see Its Will be done.
The earth is home to many lives!
They’re seen as “other,” not as one…
—
A Triolet for
#Threethingschallenge #496.
It’s Burns Night once again! Every year on January 25th, many people in Scotland and other countries hold suppers in honor of the great poet, Robert Burns, born January 25, 1759.
This song is often known by its first line, “My Love is like a Red, Red Rose.” Burns did not write it, but based his poem on traditional sources. We owe Burns a debt of gratitude, because if it were not for his desire to transcribe traditional Scottish tunes, many beautiful melodies like this one would be lost to time.
I hope you enjoy my zither arrangement!
Instruments, silent
While music rings joyfully
In another realm!
—
Written for
Heeding Haiku with Chèvrefeuille: Death Poem,
contemplating my own transition from earth.
Original Song on Ukulele
When I wrote this song 3 years ago, my nephew said, “I’m gonna sing this at your funeral!” It wasn’t as morbid as it might sound. I laughed and felt good, because I want to be remembered fondly!
Original Lyre Music
This is not a lyre.
It looks like one, if you know what a lyre looks like.
It has a rounded soundbox from which two arms reach to the sky.
One arm is shorter than the other,
but it has no disadvantage.
The top of the lyre comes to a point
that, on this one that is not,
faces away from the player.
From the point, the long arm slopes sharply toward the player,
almost like a sliding board.
Along this arm are tuning pins.
You guessed it–
the strings are attached to these
and tied to a bridge on the lower part of the soundbox.
Yes, it looks like a lyre.
Yet this is not a lyre.
It is a music box to say the least,
a magic box,
a mystical box,
the bottle containing
the alchemist’s elixir of immortality.
It won’t make you immortal.
But think about it.
Would you really want to be
immortal, ever remaining in your current form?
I didn’t think so!
But the music
of the mystical,
magical,
musical box
can lead you
to your immortal soul.
This is not a lyre,
but you might misconstrue its unassuming form,
if you didn’t know better.
But you, dear reader,
know better!
This
is not
a lyre…
—
An object poem for
dVerse.
O life can ever pull us down
And shake our moorings, rock our boat.
But somehow we can stay afloat!
We find a sudden path to ground;
We’re battered, bruised, but haven’t drowned!
And that’s the reason people say,
“Where there’s a will, there is a way.”
Despite hard times, it must be true.
There is a way for me and you.
So let us lift our sails of faith!
—
Written for
Ronovan Writes Décima Poetry Challenge Prompt No. 40: (FLOAT) in the B rhyme line.
When we are wise enough not to be foolish,
And compassionate rather than cruel,
We’re apart and together
Through the withering weather,
And we question our answers to prove them.
—
Written for
MLMM Saturday Mix: Opposing Forces.
How we push and we press and we shove
To suppress all our negative stuff…
And each time we do that,
We are not really flat…
On the contrary: We must erupt!
—
Written for
#Threethingschallenge #480: Stuff, push, flat.
To everyone who posts a daily prompt like this, I give you my thanks and admiration! I appreciate your dedication, encouragement, and inspiration, even though I can’t participate every day. Thank you! ❤
There are times when we could all use a filter, especially when we feel tired and run down or in pain.
Maybe it’s a coffee filter; these days it’s probably a mask, or even a mask with a filtering element.
Whatever you use and whatever you need, I pray that yours is a filter of hope!
Not to prevent hope–oh no–but to prevent some negativity from entering your heart, mind, soul, and outlook!
Here is a medley of two pieces I composed years ago, “Hard Times” and “Hope.”
May this meditation with zither, alto recorder, and Oriole soprano recorder be a hopeful filter for you during these difficult times!
—
Written for
#SixSentenceStories: Filter
and
Tale Weaver #310: Tired and Run Down.
Each thought is a dab on the canvas of life,
Expressing and coloring sweetness or strife.
It’s something like nothing within our control–
And thinking affects body, mind, and our soul.
O artist, choose carefully, consciously, wise,
While daily creating your portrait of life!
—
My Quadrille in response to De’s “dab” prompt at
dVerse.
Mystical Strings 
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