Contributions to A Mindful Writing Day

Hello everyone;

I did say "haphazardly" participating in the April PAD Challenge. This is why day one is being posted after day two.
Day 1 prompt of "write an optimistic poem"

Not Dead Yet, Me

Is it really such a tragedy
that my sentences are raggedy
words tread together by similarity?
The conversation is still defiantly
expressions of me.

Is it really such a travesty
that I wander aimlessly?
When I can travel through time so easily
…our life history
…a life lived outrageously.

Is it really such a disparity
that I have forgotten the melody
of your name? Still there’s some clarity….
I know the feelings of family
and passions intensity.

Is it really such an indignity
that something once familiar is now a novelty.
Or that simple tasks escape me.
I still dance to life’s jamboree
and sing majestically.

Is it really such a finality
even as I become more absentee?
There is plenty of life in my legacy.
Don’t bother writing my eulogy,
when there’s still time to create a memory.

©2024 Delaina Miller

Mindful Writing Day 2012

This year a group that I follow (Writing Our Way Home) hosted Mindful Writing Day. I decided to participate. The idea was to write what they call a “small stone” which can be anything prose, poetry…whatever as long as it is a deep reflection of the world in a moment.

I had time to reflect at different times of the day so the following are my “small stones” or contributions to Mindful Writing Day.

A Mindful Dawn

Through hickory perfumed air
shadows lie long
against autumn’s fallen landscape.
November’s filtered light
low in the eastern horizon
topping leafless trees
creating candles with wicks
submerged in the core’s liquid flame.

Midday One-line Haiku

Robin in a birdbath,one last splash.

yellow mums in autumn’s sunshine shivering.

heart-shaped leaves quiver at Aspen bases.

A Mindful Dusk

A siren conjures a dog’s howl.
Moths find their nightlight.
Night hoods the horizon
the moon and stars, little windows, open
and full of tomorrow’s promise
shine through the cloak.
Drawn into the cosmic dance we dream.

©Delaina J Miller 2012