PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

With all the troubles facing us today…

in our countries, our cities and our towns…

why is it some people get so angry

at how other people use pronouns?

When surrounded by wars, poverty, hunger, abuse of power

why does some people’s anger stem

when other people prefer to be called

he/him, she/her or they/them?

Personally, if a person is loving, compassionate and caring

if they treat everyone and the Earth with respect…

I’ll call them any name they prefer…

any label they select.

I will call them by the pronouns they prefer…

without asking their reasons why…

but when I think of them and introduce them to others

I find more beauty not in a pronoun 

but in the possessive adjective…my.

When it comes to those I love… 

When love is the message I want to send…

I prefer to say my wife, my children, my grandchildren…

my niece, my nephew…my friend.

Because for me that is where the wonder, the beauty, and the magic of life lie…

When we know and love a person long enough 

that in our heart they become a my.

THE ART OF HOLDING HANDS

From my little spot upon this Earth…this tiny place from where I stand

sometimes I wonder if there’s anything more beautiful than the art of holding hands.

Yes, holding hands is an art…as beautiful as any sunset…any rainbow…any flower…

and as an art it’s something to be appreciated for its beauty and its power.

Is there anything more beautiful…filled with more emotion…more of our love’s power

than when a baby who’s just been born puts their little hand in ours?

There’s a reason we hold on to their handprints from a time when they are small 

stuck on our refrigerator or framed upon our walls. 

Whenever and wherever we see it we immediately understand

the beauty of the bond connecting people when they are holding hands.

There’s something inherently beautiful…the way our fingers fit together

when another hand we hold…

how we are never to young to hold hands…and we will never be too old.

We see the beauty in holding hands between two lovers, 

a parent and a child 

or two children together having fun…

And we see the art when by the simple act of holding hands

these same two people become sculpted into one

And if you’ve ever been there at the end of a life….

sometimes you’ll smile….oftentimes you’ll cry 

at the beauty of the moment…when your holding hands to say goodbye. 

I think it’s especially important in this time when prejudice and hatred

are forming scars that may never mend…

as we watch two people of different colors, races, religions or genders, holding hands…

we see the beauty and the art in the way their two hands blend.

Which makes me wonder if our world be far more peaceful…

far more beautiful 

and grand….

If we spent less time at war with one another…

and more time holding hands.

http://dailyrhyme-jim.blogspot.com/

I will not leave the ship.

I will not give up.

If God brought us together then I will stay right here.

I may not always understand.

I will not go to my past.

I am trying to do my best to trust.

It is really hard with no communication.

I feel thrown overboard.

It's in your hands God.

Today I’m grateful for babies and for Carl Sandburg

In today’s world they are the perfect pairing 

from which my gratitude is drawn…

Because a baby, as Carl Sandburg said, 

is God’s opinion

that the world is meant to on.

May we be blessed to remember 

Every baby is born with a need…

a need they never grow out of…

even 90 year old babies

will always have a need to be loved.

Here’s a basic truth…I wish everyone was blessed to know:

We are all unique and beautiful flowers…

and we all need love to grow

Sometimes when the news is too depressing…I like to find a space devoid of sound

Where I can visit an old memory and be reminded how love IS all around:

An older couple seated at the table next to us is where this story begins…

With all the laughter and the joy they were sharing we couldn’t help but listen in.

They were sitting at their table smiling at each other…holding hands

when the man said, “We are here today to celebrate the day our happiness began.”

The woman looked over and winked at us. 

“It’s not what you’re thinking.” She said. 

“This is not the anniversary of the day when we were wed.”

“No, we have chosen every year to remember a different date.

The day we first said I Love You to one another is the day we celebrate.”

“Oh, I was already happy before I met this woman.” Her husband joked.

“And I was perfectly happy before I met this man.

“But the day we said I love you to each other,” she said.“is the day our happiness began.”

“That is the day we came together…the day our love combined.

The day I put my happiness in her hands and she put hers in mine.”

We toasted to their happiness…shared a moment in their reverie…

wished them many more years of happiness…and then we let them be.

They stopped to say goodbye before they left the restaurant…together hand-in-hand.

And once again we thought how some of the most beautiful moments in life

are the ones we do not plan.

I love remembering that night in the restaurant with that old woman and old man…

and celebrating with them…the day their love began.

Remembering that old couple seated at the table next to us…

who for one night became our friends…

and with us wishing them a lifetime of love and happiness…

is where this story ends.

Today I sent an email to the love of my life basically saying that I was here for him and that I wasn’t going anywhere. That I was loyal, trusting , loving and was patiently waiting.

I think that it was one of the hardest emails I have ever sent. I’m not a mean person. I’m a blunt person. I do not want to have invested the last 13 years for no reason. Promises were made. Commitment was made. I needed to know. I told him that the ball was in his court. I love him.

Today I’m grateful for universal love…

It’s something I think a lot of…

And I pray for the day we realize

We are all just different expressions

of that one universal love.