Words Have Wings
"From the wide window towards the granite shore/The white sails still fly seaward, seaward flying/
Unbroken wings ..." - from Ash Wednesday by T.S. Eliot 
The Ocean Park Hall that opened in 1926 was the perfect place to celebrate its 100-year-history this June. Outside were games, food and face painting. Inside, grainy photos were on display of days gone by, including of the original post office. Deemed the world's smallest at the time, the six foot by six foot building made it into Ripley's Believe It Or Not!. Nowadays, most messages are sent electronically on keyboards and hand written letters in the mail seem a luxury. My poem (at bottom) is an ode to the hand written letter, inspired in part by the Poets and Storytellers United prompt, the quote by T.S. Eliot, reminding that words have wings though they travel by different means and that even Eliot preferred a typewriter in the early 1900's to pen and ink. 
For clarity, above and below are digital reproductions of faded black/white photos. Mail arrived to the Ocean Park community via the railway by the shore and carried uphill. 
My poem in flowery font is from the heart, although not written by hand on paper.
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The Poets and Storytellers United prompt to think of "a time you surprised yourself" had me writing a poem (below) about unexpected resilience. We're tougher than we know and, even if broken, possibilities exist. I also thought of a woman I call Flower who two years ago passed away. I still walk by her front yard garden on my way to the local park and envision her bent over, weeding, watering and nurturing the foliage and flowers. She prettied the area with her steady hand and eye for beauty, bringing joy that outlasted her. Here are a few of her blooms and some from other gardens, as well as beach scenes, where we humans, the most multifaceted of beings, love to roam. 
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We know a lot but also remarkably little about existence: the how, what and why of it. That doesn't stop us from filling in the unknowns with stories that feel very real about Creation. Best guesses rush into every unanswered question and every detail invites its own analysis and definitions. Even with such inventive minds, it is hard to imagine how something can come out of nothing as it seemingly does so effortlessly each Spring. My poem ponders the mystery of how creativity blooms in the outer-inner worlds.
Explore more at Poets and Storytellers United, SKYWATCH and Saturday's Critters.
Check out my sites: Postcards from Penelope Puddle and Musings of A Puddlist In B.C.
Because the state of our planet is the most pressing issue of our time, link up and learn about the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) Report and watch environmental activist, 90-year-old David Suzuki, in an interview.
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Surprise Mendings
Check out my sites: Postcards from Penelope Puddle and Musings of A Puddlist In B.C.
Because the state of our planet is the most pressing issue of our time, link up and learn about the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) Report and watch environmental activist, 90-year-old David Suzuki, in an interview.
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Tall Tales & A Spring Walk
Check out my sites: Postcards from Penelope Puddle and Musings of A Puddlist In B.C.
Because the state of our planet is the most pressing issue of our time, link up and learn about the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) Report and watch environmental activist, 90-year-old David Suzuki, in an interview.
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Novel Journeys
April is National Poetry Month in Canada. Learn why poetry matters HERE.
The Poets and Storytellers United prompt "find inspiration on your bookshelf" inspired my poem and reminded me of when libraries visited my neighbourhood. As a child, I looked forward to when a large van pulled up to our street, the side door slid open and I entered a cozy room stuffed with adventures that swept me to distant shores of the imagination. These books felt like friends. Some I kept close for reading at bedtime as I drifted to sleep, rapt by fantasies. Now my travels are mostly outside the pages as I walk about my tiny place on a planet that is a footnote in a cosmic story yet to be told. 
Explore more at Poets and Storytellers United, SKYWATCH and Saturday's Critters.
Check out my sites: Postcards from Penelope Puddle and Musings of A Puddlist In B.C.
Because the state of our planet is the most pressing issue of our time, link up and learn about the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) Report and watch environmental activist, 90-year-old David Suzuki, in an interview.
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Why Bother?
"There is only one meaning of life: the act of living itself." - Erich Fromm 
"Why bother in a world that can feel meaningless" is the prompt from Poets and Storytellers United that, along with a brooding sky, inspired my poem. Though we need the gray to get the green and moods shift with the weather, it is better to nurture hope than live with feelings of futility that can sink a life into deep and pointless despair.
Cloaked under dark and light stitched together
As rain puddles retreat in this aimless weather
Do I hear laughter or quarrels at the far shore
Cackling gulls, and lost buoys on a beach floor
I look to the sky, brush despair off with prayer
Then toss hopes like confetti to soar in the air
Explore more at Poets and Storytellers United, SKYWATCH and Saturday's Critters. Check out my sites: Postcards from Penelope Puddle and Musings of A Puddlist In B.C.
Because the state of our planet is the most pressing issue of our time, link up and learn about the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) Report and watch environmental activist, 90-year-old David Suzuki, in an interview.
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Virtually Alive
“It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.” - George Orwell
Deception mixed with emerging AI, and the above quote suggested as a prompt by Poets and Storytellers United, inspired my thoughts and poem. It is a time when late actor Val Kilmer allowed his Deepfake version to play the role he was too ill to finish. This had me pondering the degree to which synthetic people differ from the black and white film era actors who since died but still seem so alive. Nowadays, many of us appear synthetically through various processes on screens. Some fall in love with digital companions who mimic humans but feel nothing. Conversely, humans seem on the path to desensitization, emoting virtually but light on genuine joy or empathy for suffering. Even photos of my walk are paperless pixels. Indeed, the wildly imaginative Orwell might be amazed at how seamlessly the artificial has woven into the fabric of daily life where lines between the acceptably real and not, like truth and lies, blur.
Explore more at Poets and Storytellers United, SKYWATCH and Saturday's Critters.
Seemingly alive again as if I never left the stage
Gazing but not seeing, gasping but not breathing
The copy of my former self that delivers its lines
Pretend humans like rumours keep on spreading
Machines talk to machines as if person-to-person
A steady ongoing creep of neither living nor dead
Expressing, without tiring, every mortal sensation
Pixel emotion summoned from codes they are fed
My resurrection cast as a motion-picture miracle
My voice produced virtually, to my ears unheard
My salty tears not tasted, imitations of glee unfelt
Mirror reflections of my existence eerily preserved
Check out my sites: Postcards from Penelope Puddle and Musings of A Puddlist In B.C.
Because the state of our planet is the most pressing issue of our time, link up and learn about the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) Report and watch environmental activist, 90-year-old David Suzuki, in an interview.
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