Archive for April, 2015

a poem about 5

April 26, 2015

When I was five,

Joey chased me around the yard

with a worm in his hand, to scare me,

We played on the backyard swingset,

I did twirls on the monkey bars,

I was five

my brother 13,

my sister 2 and a half,

My brother took me out for Halloween,

and told me we were lost,

He was lying,

but I spent half the night being scared.

There are many things to be scared of.

Scared of shadows, of thunderstorms,

Scared of strangers, scared of the moon,

Scared of not being good enough,

or of trying something new,

What are you scared of?

What is out there?

Is there a monster in your closet?

Most of the time, our fears are imagined,

Most of the time, they come from within,

Most are forgotten images

come to haunt us now and then,

Courage is not a plateau to reach, or a mountain to be climbed,

Courage is going forward on faith

and trusting the answer you find.

cfblack 04-26-2015, for the 5th anniversary of my husband’s music/poetry venue, “MindGravy”


What shall we dream?

April 25, 2015

What shall we dream?

Shall we dream we are young,

ready to start it all over again,

We are teenagers walking

along the White river,

staying up all night,

playing cards with friends,

singing the night away

with Van Morrison,

then setting out

to watch the sun rise?

I step carefully now,

going down the stairs,

as knees cause discomfort

and might give way,

but I used to stretch backwards,

curving my spine,

until my hand met the floor beneath,

then rise straight up to the top again,

a smile upon my face,

Growing older

comes as a sweet surprise,

and you can’t quite imagine

breaking into a run,

but you have to embrace

all the beauty of life,

remember always to laugh

and have fun.

cfblack  04-25-2015

Ridvan Garden

April 20, 2015

On this very night

they sang and prayed,

drank tea with Him, in the Ridvan garden,

Roses piled so high between,

they could not see each other over them,

their fragrant perfume filled the air,

but His presence is what kept them there,

Though strong winds blew about their tent,

Nightingales sang with joy content,

With humbleness, He served their needs,

while pondering what was decreed,

Banished forever from their midst,

and yet, He gave to them a gift,

The people cried, God’s will be done!

He is here with us, the Promised One!

For ages to come, they will celebrate

this great Announcement, this very date,

Rose petals leave our hearts undone,

O Blessed Beauty, the Promised One.

                     on the first day of Ridvan, April 21, 2015      heart

It is hard to wait

April 17, 2015

We are all so busy,





yet, all we have is each other,

the job will wait

meet your deadline tomorrow

put off getting that thing you want

for another week,

If it is right, if God is willing,

another will be there when you return,

maybe it will be

the right one

at the right time

until then

walk with me,

enjoy today

any one of us

could not be here tomorrow.

If I Make It To 92

April 13, 2015

If I make it to 92,

I would want to be in my home,

Watching whatever I want on TV,

Making my own decisions,

Staying in bed if I feel like it,

And eating ice cream.

I would take the meds I need

In order to feel alive,

In order to go where I want to go,

Do what I want to do.

If I feel like painting, I will paint,

If I want to read, I will read,

Decorate my living room

With art that appeals to me.

This being said, I would also hope

That my heart remains always kind,

That I speak with love to family,

Be of service, somehow, to humanity,

I hope that I still play with children,

Taking time to see life as they do,

Be open to others around me,

Make time for friends when they call,

To not become bitter,

To not build walls,

And be willing to learn something new.

cfblack 04-13-15,

            inspired by my 92-yr-old father-in-law’s recent overnight stay in the hospital

City Night haiku

April 9, 2015

On a city night

Tree frogs sing their song amidst

ambulance siren.


April 7, 2015

Thunder rolls across the sky

in long, low rumbling echoes,

I remember my grandma saying,

“Angels are bowling, one just got a strike,”

I wonder what games the gods are playing

way up high above,

is it dark there, or light?

is it day or is it night?

Are we the pawns for their own game?

will they take us off the board?

and I listen to the rain, falling down,

angel’s tears.

cfblack  04-07-15


April 5, 2015

I know the Easter bunny is a Pagan thing,

and that Hallmark creates holidays,

I know that Christ was not born in December,

and we don’t need gifts to show love, on birthdays,

But I also know, I had fun with our kids

when we took eggs

and dipped them in dye,

and I walked with them dressed in their little costumes,

when we went out on Halloween night.

For years I bought gifts for your birthday as well,

had the kids pick out something for fun,

but I got tired of seeing my own birthday go by

and there was nothing then done in return,

So it’s very hard being with someone like this,

who is stuck on the history of things,

and sometimes I think you just do things for fun,

relax in the joy that it brings.

         cfblack 04-05-15

April 5 – A woman of 60

April 5, 2015

A woman of 60

gives up certain things,

like bikinis, short shorts

and tight-fitting jeans,

She gives up on other things too,

like caring a whole lot

about whether you approve.

She’s not in the mood

to smile or please,

she has no patience

for things like these,

Her arms are open to grandchildren

Her heart opens wide to let them in,

She has lived long enough

to take life in stride,

Go forward in faith

because somehow, you survive,

The fragrance of rose, or hyacynth

brings joy of the moment

and utter content,

Each day is a blessing,

and laughter is sweet,

Time spent with loved ones

is all you really need.

Day 3 – Haiku

April 3, 2015

My husband makes me coffee,

He leaves at 3am,

When I get up it is cold.

              cfblack, for 4-04-15