A Homemade Gift

 

Sumana's prompt for "What's Going On" is "A Homemade Gift." I love homemade gifts and have received a few while teaching people with injuries who needed to learn computer skills for a new job. One handcrafted item I adore is woven baskets. Last night, I watched an old movie, 'Out of Africa' and bits of all these found their way into my poem.

A Homemade Gift

I have woven you a basket,
formed in the shape of my heart,
To hold yours when it needs a safe place
on cold and dreary winter days.

I have woven you a basket with
willow picked from the wild,
from a place untamed and free,
a place you always liked to be.

I have woven you a basket,
filled with wisps of what once was,
full of redundant butterflies
to join you on your vagabond life.

When you wander through the world,
and memory fades into dusk,
you will still carry a bit of me,
as I have woven you a basket.

Searching

Rommy from Poets and storytellers United asked us to reflect on the phrase "low battery".
I did  feel a bit lost for a while although I didn't have a low battery as I charge it often by going on walks. I am priveleged as I am retired. That helps. I am still searching to find my way as I always have the feeling of not doing enough. For 2025 I try to let that go and enjoy the things I do.

 

Searching

I travel through old bends,
Around the corner, a view of the sea
waiting to be admired by me
The wind wants to meet,
embrace me in a fierce grip,
squeezing out the grey
feelings of everyday.

I charge my low battery
fill it with the shine of the scenery.
Soft stripes are drawn on the skyline.
A green carpet spreads out,
withdrawing at the back.
I lock eyes with the ocean.
He winks knowingly

A cabbage tree stands silently
next to me in brotherhood.
We share the breath of the earth.
He, firmly enrooted,
I, still wavering,
still searching for my place
in the scheme of things.

What sooths me

 

Rosemary from Poets and Storytellers United asked us to answer the question, ‘What soothes you?

What soothes me 

When the black of night breaks,
And light filters through the cracks,
Sun rays stroke and soothe me,
Promising a new day of possibilities.

When life forges tears from stale air,
From moldy thoughts and a polluted mind,
It draws me out, where the rustling leaves
Of swaying trees lull me back to peace.

A quiet hum, a gentle hush,
Sending a gush of glee,
A soothing sound stirs my soul,
The sphere of music makes me whole.

And oh, being spoon-fed with niceness,
Wrapped in layers of tenderness,
Warming my heart with a velvety feel,
Each phrase a soft, soothing feather

Marja Blom

Amor Fati

Rosemary from Poets and Storytellers United asked us to consider  Untitled 19, a poem by Rajani Radhakrishnan
The poem is gorgeous and I was guided by the beautiful lines
'let your poem gather itself
its empty spaces'

I let my poem gather but read today that we were asked whether we think it's best to speak up or stay silent on difficult issues I am more of a practical person. I discuss difficult things with my Dutch friends as this is natural in Dutch culture. I learned that it is hard to change a person's opinion.
I realised we have little impact on many things. But I will stand up if I can.
My motto is that you can't change the world but you can try to change it for one person at a time. 
This didn't work out for some people. In that case, it taught me patience, understanding complex issues, and setting boundaries. I am not quite there yet, but somehow, my poem ties in with this. Because if you develop and change, you will have a better impact.

This also balances life out to tie in with 'What's going on?' :)

Amor Fati
Love of fate

As the petals of life unfold
I walk a resilient rope
Each strand, a thread of destiny
A balance between despair and delight

I welcome every kind of weather:
The sun’s warm embrace,
The disgrace of a storm set to drown me,
When life’s trials surround me.

Am I to brave these bursts of turbulence
Or surrender to the fear that pierces my peace?
Should I seek shelter in safer spaces
Or trust the path that fate has laid?

Life listens to the sacred whispers of the rain;
You cannot always change your fate,
but eventually, fate changes you
I call this the gentle art of blossoming.

Marja Blom

Dear body

A quick and short poem as I choose to do too many other things this week 😌
Poets and storytellers united and asked us to Write a letter to our body

Dear Body

You are my joy and my burden.
A whisper from the past
said you were once a blast.
Sadness clung to me,
and I turned to food
numbness thickening.

Even with curves and folds,
you are fierce and full of grace.
You who showed me the world,
gave me backbone,
made the music flow through my veins,
turned me into a dance floor diva.

When light pounds onto the earth,
you let me lean into the spectacle.
I moved through life,
clumsy yet confident,
awkward but alive.

My body, my home
strength preserved beneath the surface.
I see you now.
I will finally observe
that you get what you deserve.

Break Free

Rosemary from Poets and Storytellers United  invited us to write on being bound and/or breaking free

Break Free

Break free from the superficial
Dive deep into life
Be aware, absorb, adore
Always strive for more
joy love, and peace

Did you learn to react instead of act?
To control instead of respect?
This rhythm of imperfections
can be mended into a melody
harmonising heart and mind

Break free from the chains of society
Plant thoughts to grow in the light
of your original insight
Disbelieve those who say you’re weak
You are as strong as the force of a storm

Breaking free means removing
the bars from our mind.
opening the windows wide
Let the wind blow away your fears,
Until colours fill the shadows

Marja Blom