Tag Archives: miracles

matin

matin

i rise
to sun dappled treetops
to emerald eyes
to soft rhythmic purrs
to coffee-infused air
to cool sheets
to softness
to light
to love
what a miracle it is
to be granted another sunrise
to feel my lungs swell, to sigh
to know that i am clothed
in this moment, grounded
in its sweetness, charged
to greet this messy world
in the afterglow of glory…
     may i be a blessing then
     as i have been so richly blessed
i rise
to a new day
like every day before
and every day yet to come
if the fates are willing
to sun dappled treetops
to emerald eyes
to soft rhythmic purrs
to coffee-infused air
to cool sheets
to softness
to light
to love

~kat


April Poetry Month – A Poem a Day #20

I have a busy day tomorrow so I’m posting poetry month, day 20 a day early. The Minute Poem is a rhyming verse form consisting of 12 lines of 60 syllables written in strict iambic meter. The poem is formatted into 3 stanzas of 8,4,4,4; 8,4,4,4; 8,4,4,4 syllables. The rhyme scheme is as follows: aabb, ccdd, eeff.

While on my way to work this morning a strange storefront caught my eye, in particular the statue in the window. I knew I needed to stop by on my way home to explore it a bit more.

It is a strange, verging on creepy, little place. A small sign on a side window says it’s a Catholic museum. The statues and relics contained within share the space with lawn chairs, debris and dust.

I couldn’t help feeling a bit nostalgic, remembering the unfailing devotion of my grandmother who attended Novena Masses every morning and taught me to believe in the mystical and miraculous.

Odd as it all was, I felt blessed by those memories of my childhood and embraced in grace.

Even there behind a pane of glass, surrounded by piles of junk and buried under layers of dust…even there, miracles are possible.

Here then is my Minute Poem…

NOTE: I had mistaken the identity of this lovely “lady”. She is, in fact Saint Therese of Lisieux. So…to be accurate, I have tweaked the poem. It doesn’t change the meter or the mystical quality. A rose by another name is still sweet. ❤

  

Storefront Saint 

Hail fair Lady full of woe
no votive’s glow
to warm your feet
here on Fifth Street.

As weary travelers pass by
none catch your eye
lacking vision
for apparitions.

Strange Storefront Saint Therese, you wait
bestowing grace
upon the few
who notice you.

~kat – 20 April 2016


%d bloggers like this: