THREE-TWO-ONE

Posted on January 21, 2025 by elainedanforth

Three-Two-One
can I write
a three minute poem?

In a month
and time of day
that, while relatively lighter
than the several weeks that have just passed by
and away,
is still quite dark.

The tail end of eventide.
Time to settle
in for rest,
slow down and eventually to stop
in whatever’s left
of this day’s stride.

And whisper to myself
a sweetly soothing bedtime story
to feed sweet dreams
from which I may plant the seeds,
that they may sprout, take root
and shoot right up,
in ways as yet unseen
but beginning
on the morrow.

That makes
about four minutes total.

Posted in Medium Length Poems, Poetry, Seasons, Spring, Winter | Tagged | Leave a comment

BODY AND SOUL– IN GOOD COMPANY

Posted on January 5, 2025 by elainedanforth

A spark–
a whirl of cells

collide into form–
a human body
to live in
for a number of score. . .

love and respect
intersect
to keep it whole,
so that with its soul
it can enjoy good years
of company more.

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LAND AND SEA

Posted on January 1, 2025 by elainedanforth

Land and sea. . .
life’s interplay
between flow
and solidity–

gifts God does bestow,
from the simplest
to the best
in ingenious
complexity–

slinking up
from dark dense wet eels’ depths,
through time and space,
and reaching to the mountain tops
and sunlit eagle’s aerie,
and higher still. . .

how all this fits together–
too much for the human mind
thoroughly to puzzle–
much less invent–

not with easy riff off sudden bolt of inspiration,
nor with dogged force of will.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Note– I originally wrote this January 1, 2012, but found and edited it today, in the form you see here.

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THE TURNING AND THE ROAD AHEAD

Posted on December 21, 2024 by elainedanforth

While some months of cold and wet
And longer hours of dark
Still lie ahead,

If you are here
to hear
and read,
it tells me
that you are not dead.

So, read this
and look around
and smell and listen,
your feet standing or stepping firmly
on the ground,
even as the slippery ice or snow or rain
or mud
may glisten

and attend
to any sign
that we have reached the bottom
of the year,
and that things really have
even if just an eensy teensy bit,
turned up, and shifted,

And amid the snows and rains
and ice
or, in some certain kinds of place,
green or fungal growing things
will start to rise,
pop up their hopeful heads,

And if you keep a watchful vigil
on whatever natural details
catch your eye and mind
in coming days,
by some time soon after
the New Year rings,

you will see and feel and smell
that the sun longer in your sight
above in sky
each day shall dwell,

and the energy
of the world
and you
will have already
begun to be uplifted.

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THE GOLDEN CHANGE OF DIRECTION

Posted on December 20, 2024 by elainedanforth

So good to be walking at sunset.
Not too bad a day at all.
Better than yesterday, anyway,
and there won’t be a day shorter than today–

except of course, tomorrow,
when the Winter Solstice,
the shortest day of the year
occurs, and the time the sun begins a day by day
path in the sky to go the other way
and days start to grow long–

For me,
that’ll be
tomorrow evening–
a new beginning.

. . . . . . .

Note: this poem was written many years ago, so the moment of solstice will be a somewhat different time than the poem mentions.

Posted in Autumn, Poetry, Seasons, Winter | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

THE BOOMERANG OF WINTER SOLSTICE

Posted on December 19, 2024 by elainedanforth

Two days left
till the lowest dip
of this natural year,

Now on a dark boomerang ride
that will sink
to max low,

Before
it whirls back up
eventually to where
the days will be longer and brighter
and bluer and more clear.

But, for now,
we must be just where we are,
and perhaps best
notice how it feels
in this place that is low,

and hang on–
not too tight, nor too loose–
as best as we know,
to what might prove to be
a treacherously erratic
and sharp boomerang,
as if ’twere our sole lifeline,
and believe

that, somewhere,
in the earlier part of next year,
after its spins, which arc wide
and which,
with the bumpiest turbulence,
ratchet,

a firm and strong hand
will reach up
and with the greatest love and of skill,
will catch it,

in a place and a time
that will move brand-new growth
to new heights of sunshine,
and new leaps in our hearts
of fresh, empowering cheer.

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DECEMBER SHINE

Posted on December 15, 2024 by elainedanforth

There is a shine
down from the sun–
intermittent, spotty,
muted or obscured though it may be. . .

Which, when I bend my head,
my mind, my eye to it,
can brighten up my day
though the day quite quiet be,
and slow– perhaps a little heavy.

As winter creeps slow up on us,
exacting swaths of our sweet energy
as sure as taxes
that by our own constructed states
upon us,
at intervals in times steady
or irregular,
are levied,

We need to gather up
and meet ourselves
just where we are,
to heal and grow,

even while dark and moon and evening star
nightly rule more o’er our lives
than our brighter, warmer
and more primary star,
now relegated to a shorter turn,
rules daily,

And how to navigate our lives amid this time,
is something that each year we must recall
or puzzle anew,
as well as,
in the moment or in the overall
do our impromptu very best
to attend to,

finding further ways to deal and cope and thrive,
according to a natural rhythm
which we will also learn,
and learn again,

to let us live
ever closer,
over years and seasons,
to the way our deepest hearts’ desires
intend to.

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THE REACH OF THE GENTLE FLICKERING FLAME

Posted on December 9, 2024 by elainedanforth

In the early-fallen eve,
tucked indoors, between the walls,
under the eaves,

sounds the gentle flickering flame
from the glowing, warming, cooking hearth. . .

Feel how soft
it activates the tiny inner workings of your ear. . .
not much to hear,
but definite, perceptible. . .
you have no doubt it’s there. . .

And likewise, note
how it can
engage the nerves
branched and webbed
from your brain
out to your most outer skin
and deepest innards,

as they’ve always,
by their nature, known to do
learning nor from any book,
nor drill of rote.

Sense also how
that seeming little flickering,
via soup and other food, and air
serves to warm both spine and belly,

shoring up your body temp
and urging your reluctant blood,
which, then, in consequence,
more freely, strongly flows,
from head to toes
from knees to nose. . .

from outstretched arms and fingertips
to outstretched arms and fingertips. . .

from the sometimes elusive etherial
spirit,

to the ever dense, material,
muscular and noisy, ever-moving,
mighty, tender
fleshy, driving heart.

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CLOCK SAYS SLEEP

Posted on November 19, 2024 by elainedanforth

The clock
says sleep
no miles to go,
but thoughts to drop. . .

and perhaps a bit
envisioning
and numbering to do
of some unsuspecting sheep.

Let heart and brain and gut
slow down,
eyes soothed and shut,

And angels keep me till I rise
and open up those morning sleepy eyes.

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CLOSED EYES AT DAY’S END

Posted on November 8, 2024 by elainedanforth

Closed eyes
lids blood red illuminated black
with residual white of screen glow.

A day well lived–
a good thing,
for there is no going back,

a settling into later evening,
night and sleep,
restoring self

Perhaps even to the spirit
of that long ago
open-hearted loving
playful, joyful elf,

when the twilight of the morning
slices through the slatted blinds,
and the light
of one more new day’s sun
and thicker waxing crescent moon
return around the world
to where they show,

and,
in the scope of my eye,
so clearly ease my vision
and my path,
and my steps forth
to wherever I may go.

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