Doctor Grandma

Tonight, driving past the Statehouse,

we saw two groups on opposite sides,

each one holding up signs of their homeland,

each one chanting loudly with passion.

One side a white flag with blue stripes and star,

the other black-white-green-striped with red triangle,

One side with women showing their hair,

the other with hair underneath a scarf.

Their nations are at war, killing each other,

but we all live here in Columbia.

We all have children who wish to be loved,

we all worship God Who created the world,

Did He not create us all?

Did he build this wall, or did we?

Perhaps He built steps for us all to climb,

We start at the bottom, walk higher and higher,

then meet one another, across the top.

What do we do? Start down the other side?

Aren’t we all human? Can we not stay alive

on this earth that we all walk upon?

We don’t have to agree on everything,

we can call God by different names,

We just have to agree to see each other as H-U-M-A-N.

It’s really not that hard to do.

But when we allow hate to overturn love,

We become lower than the animal.

Animals do not kill because of hate,

They kill in order to survive.

One Sun in the sky,

One Moon at night,

One planet we live and die together on.

As for me, I want all children to live,

all children to have no fear,

all children to be with their families,

all children to survive.

cfblack 10-17-2023

“In short, for a few days we live on this earth and eventually we are buried in it, it is our eternal tomb. Is it worthwhile that we should engage in bloodshed and tear one another to pieces for this eternal tomb?” ~~ ‘Abdu’l-Baha

What are the sounds of midnight?

are they keeping you awake?

Somewhere a dog barks

while children are asleep,

I hear an ambulance siren

screaming down the street,

Someone has an emergency

someone works the night shift,

traffic on the highway,

trucks roaring loudly,

insects add a lighter shrill constant calling sound,

my husband turns now in our bed,

I have a sniffly nose,

2am occasionally two owls may come to call,

hoot-hooting to one another,

this is their time to go,

The world is never silent,

Life is all around,

The Earth is ever-turning

day and night are full of sound.

cfblack 9-22-2023

Nights are different now,

They are quiet.

The locust waves of cascading songs have gone,

A high shrill but quiet insect calls

for hours, “Is anyone still out there?”

A few others make staccato chirps

But all in all, it is Fall.

The sun still warms us on a walk,

But sunsets happen earlier,

and soon, the leaves will turn, and fall,

Good night all.

cfblack, 9-15-2023

Some nights

when it is quiet

after a long, noisy day,

a busy, productive day,

or a relaxing day,

I don’t want to go to bed.

It is quiet now.

Earlier, thunder rolled, lightning flashed,

wind picked up,

but now, all is still.

My husband sleeps,

birds settle in their nests,

a few crickets chirp,

I can write a poem,

read a little,

take melatonin,

settle my thoughts.

But I remember I want to walk EARLY

before it’s very hot,

so I will retire, and go to bed,

dream some dreams I will forget.

cfblack, 9-7-2023

I like to walk at dusk or dawn,

hear the trees speak to my soul,

These southern pines rise to the skies,

majestically, stand tall,

Offer shelter to the birds

to safely raise their young,

Oh, the stories they could tell!

They weep and whisper to themselves,

but lift their branches to the Sun

and hope for better days.

cfblack, 230905

Blessed is the slumberer

   awakened by My breeze,

The lifeless one,

The solaced,

The wayfarer in distress,

The sore athirst,

   insatiate,

   who sit at the banquet table,

The abased one,

The needy,

The heedless, the ignorant,

Blessed the soul raised to life,

The one who seeks reunion,

The ear that hears, the tongue that bears witness,

The eye that recognized his Lord,

They that have attained His Presence,

   who seek enlightenment,

He who heard of My own grief,

   attired his head with My love,

He who laid down his own life

    borne hardships in My Name,

He who rises from the dead

   to glorify My Word,

Enraptured by My melodies,

    who rent the veils asunder,

Blessed he who remains faithful

   to the Covenant of God,

Who things of this world have not kept back

   from attaining My Holy Court,

Blessed the person who detached their self

   from everything else but Me,

Who soars to the atmosphere of My Love,

   gazes upon My Glory,

Blessed she who drinks her fill

   from the river of My Providence,

Acquaints herself with My Cause,

   apprehends My Holy Word,

Blessed those on the horizon

   of Knowledge and Glorification,

Blessed those engaged in My Praise,

   upon them rest My Mercy,

My Love abideth forever in thee,

My Bounty, My Glory, be upon thee.

   ~~ a poem by Carol Black, taken from Baha’u’llah’s words in the Lawh-i-Aqdas (His Tablet to the Christians)

ONE

Sometimes life seems like a bad dream

Not all sweet and syrupy

More like painful tragedy,

When you’re holding onto a life raft

Hoping someone’s at the other end,

When troubles with the ones you love

Pile up like fire ant hills

In winter,

And prayers run into one another

Like waves going out to sea,

You stop and take a deep breath

ask God to intercede,

When one son sleeps in a hospital

another recovers from surgery

And a grandson’s wallet disappears

Like magic into the air!

God needs to do His magic tricks

To bring a remedy,

The ancestors from other worlds

to blow a kiss our way,

The waters need to calm,

The healing to begin,

The pain of life to give way to

upliftment once again.

****************************************************************

TWO

When a mother’s kids are hurting

she kind of loses her mind,

When there is no answer coming

and she doesn’t know where to turn,

When her love song keeps on playing

but their troubles just pile on,

When at the same time she knows

others’ troubles far outweigh her own,

It doesn’t make sense to measure

the amount of pain we feel,

What matters is to reach out to others

and to know your pain is real,

When friends respond with loving hearts

it softens your blistering soul.

02-25-2023 cfblack

Street lights and sunrise give light together,

One is dying, the other rising,

Go back inside to get my phone

but when I return, night light is gone.

Morning comes as it always does,

this one cold, I can see my breath,

32 degrees makes one hesitate to enjoy the beauty, and the

firepit sits alone, unused,

too cold to sit around a fire,

yet, memories of friends’ voices linger,

and the sun will shine today,

all day long.