Bitter or Better?


Guest Blog………I hope this poem speaks to you in some small way. Its a great reminder that we always have a choice.

 

bitter or better which one do you choose?

if you choose bitter, you know you will loose

one letter difference between the two, yet two different meanings that are far apart

one kills your soul and another strengthens your heart

i need to choose a better me

so that i can possibly

be able to communicate amicably

i want to live peacefully

so you can see the force in me

the force in me

is not always forcefully

but i’m not a joke

and i don’t blow smoke!

if you see smoke, then there is a fire

put your chinstrap on because I’m going to take it higher

i begin to soar

by starting on the floor

i can’t get up if i haven’t fallen down

starting from the ground

makes me sound

 

so you see

i don’t want to be

living my life bitterly

what is there to gain?

except more pain

to have more time loss

just add more to the dross

can you really afford the cost?

choose a better way

please don’t delay

start immediately

work expediently

no time to waste

pursue the chase

of a fulfilled life

for you and your hearers

Wrangling A Poem


It is said, food is sustenance -
purely and simply.
To that I say, 
a poem is most exquisitely the savory and sweet 
nectar which feeds the soul. 
 
They’re meant to be slivered into bite size pieces,
swirled around and sucked on.
 
Much like one enjoys a fine wine,
allowing it to roll on the palette,
noting the high and low notes,
identifying the complex and subtle elements.
 
Emily Dickinson, Mary Oliver, Lou Lipsitz, 
Maya Angelou, Walt Whitman, Pablo Neruda
soothe the weary spirit.
 
Pick one, 
sink into a comfortable chair,
lose yourself in the what if.  
 
Chew on the fat, roll around in the grass,
graze on the possibilities. 
 
Collect them, soak them in, 
let them fill you.
 
Eat freely from the banquet of poems,
you will never be alone.
Full of Hope
Debbie Hope
 

A Soft Hush


If you look carefully, there are endless moments
of peace offerings throughout our day. Most are
spoken through hushed, almost inaudible song.
Spilled out with soft whispers and full hearts.

I caught a glimpse of this today while sitting in Church.

An elderly couple sitting with their daughter and grandson
shared a simple, yet stirringly beautiful moment. As the ritual
of peace was offered, the daughter leaned over and gently kissed
her Dad’s cheek and whispered, “peace to you Daddy,” and
extended the same sentiment to her Mom.

It happened so quickly I almost missed it. The pureness
of the moment touched me so deeply it drew tears.

I’m not sure why this resonated the way it did, but
ever thankful for the reminder of peaceful, authentic love and
for seeing it play out in this crazy world.

 

Debbie Hope….Full Of Hope

 

The Delivery


She’s been gone 4 years, 6 months, 7 days.
Yet, she visits religiously
every Thursday,
without fail.

The postman has no clue,
of the bounty he brings
jumbled together,
with a bill from Duke Energy.

She must have purchased
a life long subscription
to watch TV.

To him,
it’s just another magazine-
not to me.

Debbie Hope

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And In The Beginning, There Was Light


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The spirit quite naturally reaches towards light
same as seedlings shoot straight for the sun,
desperate to be free of darkness.
There is one goal…..to grow
A move to the light is fitting.

Sheer delight
when the bulb dances with light,
or a flashlight held to the ear,
to find the tiny spider settled inside
will instinctively rush to the light.

We are meant for the same,
to move forward, change, grow
A resplendent reach.

The shift of the sun
reminds us of this each morning.

Today’s hand reaches forth and pulls us into tomorrow,
however resistant we may be.
Silently, we follow
never certain what we will find,
blind leading the blind,
amazingly sublime.

We drink deeply from the light,
it fuels us for another day.
It warms our blood,
wrestles sadness to the ground.

As you propel towards the light,
don’t forget to dance in the moonlight.

Debbie Hope

Compassion…….Where Does It Live?


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Maybe you’ve felt it,
perhaps it floats to the surface every now and again.

Like a buried treasure,
it can be locked away or reasoned with.
I believe it resides someplace deep and real;
uniquely different from love.

It’s beyond what the eye perceives,
burrowed in the soul
far, far down
nestled with bone, twisted through tendon,
sleeping silently in cells.

It’s everywhere and through everything human
A testament of undeserving grace.

When you’ve seen it, really seen it
rubbed up against it,
smelled its essence
it’s remembered-forever.

Lavish it upon yourself,
wear it like a coat of brilliant reds and golds,
toss it carelessly like confetti….everywhere
It is our human fanfare.

Full of Hope
Debbie Hope