Lonely, I wait here
Where none but God can find me
He isn’t looking
Like a garage-sale puzzle
Not all the pieces are there

2nd poem

Oh, I cannot breathe
The filthy air clouding my lungs
In these godless times
A hurricane of chaos
Envelops the innocent

Link: poem 1 godless month to where none but God can find me. Poem 2 godless month to these godless times.

I will probably use the 2nd poem in the final sequence, as the 1st one is too modern in feel. But I liked it enough to post it.

Where are the colors?
How late the summer lingers!
The leaves still verdant
A season out of season
A month when there are no gods

This one is rather hard to see: a mother, sighing, I bend down to start cleaning — to Where are the colors? It actually started as where are the CHILDREN, but the poem then turned into a comment about the leaves remaining green this far into October Kannazuki (神無月) short for kaminashizuki “the month when there are no gods”, commonly called the “godless month” in the Japanese calendar. The eight million or so native gods of Japan all travel to Izumo taisha (the Grand Izumo Shrine) in October, leaving the rest of the country “godless”.

Fallen tree branches
Scattered all over the lawn
Like thrown-away toys
And like a mother, sighing,
I bend down to start cleaning

Link: world crumbles to scattered

Smile, just smile
As the whirlwind descends
And the world crumbles
Nothing can be done, so let
The tears fall, and just smile

Link: persevere to smile, just smile (a sarcastic turn)

Time is merciless
Adding to my sorrow and
Stealing my beauty
But my heart must persevere
For hope still walks among us

Link: Without mercy to merciless

The scent of wood-smoke
Carried on the autumn wind
And I am brought back
To those happy childhood days
My family around me

Notes: Link: From “premonition” to “I am brought back”, imagined future to remembered past.

Something about the smell of wood-smoke reminds me of autumn during my childhood–never mind that I grew up in Texas! We had a fireplace and my father liked to use it just as the weather started to cool.

Shivering, I wake
One-half hour before the dawn
A premonition
I reach for my beloved
But he is no longer there

Link: Chill runs up my spine to Shivering

Everything is fine with my husband–he wasn’t there when I woke up because he was working the midnight shift, LOL. Poetry makes everything more dramatic!!!

I look up, seeing
The slightest hint of color
Autumn’s harbinger
The leaves whisper “Make ready!”
And a chill runs up my spine

Link: Sinners’ upraised faces to I look up. Since the last poem was purely spiritual, I needed to bring the poems back into the seasonal theme. It’s important that the poems keep their seasonal/natural world grounding, even if the theme wanders away from time to time.