The Forgiveness© arlene s bice
It took years
to understand
why
the reasons behind
decisions,
once understood
became clear,
forgiveness
floated in easily.
photo by Diego PH-unsplash
Category: women writers
Day 28 ProlificPulse Mo Po: celebrate the beauty of language and words themselves.
Language © arlene s bice
Ahhh. the beauty of words
of many languages
spoken softly with sensitivity
can heal, comfort, inspire
even on a bistro menu
words sing like songs
to entice you, tease you
allow you to enjoy
beauty, taste, pleasure
let the words, descriptions
roll over your tongue
prior to the food
even arriving.
Photo thanks to Linda Tate Wolfbard=unsplash
Day 26 ProlificPulse Mo Po : Explore the theme of dreams and aspirations in poetry
Dreams © arlene s bice
Those dreams that were given up
after one attempt after another
failed again and again, yet again
disappointed, rejected, lost
returned, came unannounced
an opportunity given to me
without asking 30 years late;
came easily from two directions
“please write a book for us”
my writing affair began.
My First Book
Day 25 ProlificPulse Mo Po: Capture the essence of a particular emotion
Exhilaration! © arlene s bice
My first time, IWWG annual conference
500 women writers gather at Skidmore
eyes wide, a bit nervous, I was in awe
multiple classes each hour each day
a week away from work and all
feeling alive, filled with music
made up of words and guidance
new friendships formed, kept
becoming a writer day by day
a tradition formed for 10 years
poem/essay/story is accepted
wow
book is now published
wow
leading writers’ group
wow
presenting courses
wow
thank you, thank you, thank you.
Day 23 ProlificPulse Mo Po: the concept of memory and its impact on our lives.
Memory ©arlene s bice
A particular memory may
cut deep into our psyche
create a day of sadness
loss of love so desired
or bring happiness
just remembering
your choice.
Lizzie with my notebooks. Reading?
Day 13 ProlificPulse Mo Po: explore the relationship between humanity and nature.
photo by michael krahn
Into the Forest © arlene s bice
In childhood, my forest was a Woods
more than a copse of trees less than a forest
nestled between two developed pieces of land
a special place that I walked, later rode my bike
five blocks, climb a tree, cozy myself in a union
sometimes lucky to find no one else thereabouts
read a comic book from my back pocket
the big boys off playing chosen action games
beyond my size, age, and being a girl
ah, it planted a seed, a memory of warmth
where comfort is found in the arms of a tree
it is still there; I drive to a nearby state park
a forest much larger; I don’t climb trees anymore
but find a fallen log or stump of an old one
bring out my sketch pad or lined journal
pencil or pen in hand soaking up peace,
tranquility, restoration of self slowly comes
a ray of sunlight may filter through the trees
rustle of dry leaves and crickets are chorus
birds quiet, waiting to see what I will do
the magic of Mother Nature, still works.
Day 12 ProlificPulse Mo Po: a dream you’ve had in vivid detail through poetry.
Dreaming the House of Change © arlene s bice
Repeatedly, it began with my house
of early setting in
back wall completely blown away,
exposed
rooms crooked, uneven,
empty
reconstruction not working,
lopsided
a ramp leading to entrance
crumbling
weatherbeaten, life beaten
a vision of my marriage
this repetitive dream alerted me
change was coming
it did, each time.
What’s Your Story?
Overlooking My Ancestors
You know, we all have one. It’s different from everyone else’s. When I first began to write down my story in 10 years of writing classes during the IWWG (International Women’s Writing Guild) Annual Conference, I begrudgingly let out one incident at a time. Like I was sharing a favorite candy bar as a kid. Not wanting to give away too much. Things I hadn’t talked about in years. Things that were stuffed way down inside me like I was hiding a treasure that no one else knew was there. And no one did because I never talked about those things. Hah! Once I began writing, all those stored up memories came tumbling out. Boy! Did it feel good! Like unloading a heavy sack of potatoes off my shoulders.
Has anyone informed you how satisfying it is to write your story? It’s wonderful to write about your ancestors, too. You will get to know them, especially if you have never met them. Unfortunately, there is a lot you can only surmise between the recorded facts. Their personalities will show up as you write. Information may even come to you in dreams where our loved ones sometimes place ideas and messages. Really. It is true. Trust it.
But it’s also true that you are the only one who can tell your story as you experienced it. Your thoughts, impressions, joys and sorrows remembered as only you can. It is a trip back into your past where the pains aren’t so awful as they once were, and the joys are even greater. If you don’t know how to start or where to begin…just write anything, the ABC’s even and your pen, pencil or computer will take over. It’s like opening the flood gates. Remember to write how you felt. I had trouble with that one. I’m still shy about it sometimes.
Here’s the Ancestor Skinny
We all have family stories. Some funny. Some tragic. All worthy of telling. One of my grandmothers was born with a veil leading her to be an intuitive tarot card reader. The family story came to me that one day she was reading for a client, when all of a sudden, she yelped, “go home. Go home immediately! Your house is on fire and the baby is sleeping in his crib upstairs!”
The lady rushed home to find her mother dozing in the living room chair. She raced upstairs where her 4 year old, playing with a pack of matches, accidentally set the curtains on fire. The woman doused the fire easily and checked on the baby sleeping peacefully in the crib, unaware and unharmed. My grandmother prevented what could have been a terrible tragedy.
If you don’t have exact dates or certificates, it’s okay. It helps if you have general time periods. Imaging your story is easier if you do. Did you have a favorite aunt or uncle, maybe a grandparent story? How about someone in the family that brings a smile when you think of them. If so, write it down. Enjoy yourself as you write it. Your smiling shines through your words. It’s like being entertained by a movie you are writing. And the truth is, I’m seeking submissions for this year’s Ancestor Anthology. Send me a message or go to my website contact page.
Photo thanks to petr-sidorov @unsplash
From: What it is to be a Woman-Tubbs
Something to think about …(C)Sandra Butler Tubbs
Mrs. Rosalind Gertner (Lakewood New Jersey High School Social Studies Department Chairperson, white and Jewish) wrote this in my 1967 yearbook:
“A young woman with your brains and of your race has a very hard line to walk between two worlds. I’ve seldom met anyone with your ability to do it successfully – My best wishes go with you – affectionately, Roz Gertner.”
Thank God for allowing me to grow and flourish among so many wise and wonderful people. At first I thought Mrs. Gertner was ignoring the recent mid-sixties Civil Rights victories. She, like my father, Deacon William Butler, knew that those laws were only tiny baby steps toward a better direction.
My father once said, “Laws don’t change people’s hearts.”
Because of my father, Mrs. Gertner and others, I have survived and thrived on that very hard line Mrs. Gertner described in 1967.
I am ready to begin conversations with red, yellow, black and white about how we humans can start taking steps to be who God wants us to be – you know, loving, kind and considerate to each other.
To my friends and family, we all are part of God’s family, so let us start helping others to be part of that family and to take bigger steps toward the healing needed in the United States and the world; and let’s let God’s love shine through each of us to each other.