Lily's NaPo 2022

[Lily of Archenland]

The Darkest Hour
[4/16/2022]

The Witch, the Devil, the Empire of Rome
Are on the move to slay all hope
And God knows who else is marching.

And it looks as if the Empire wins,
Executes innocence for society’s sins.
And I see where the Devil leers,
And smears out light in soot and tears.
And the Witch has shorn the Lion’s mane
So it never shall be Spring again,
And so the world is mourning.

Just so, the story goes.

Power and evil, fang and knife
Unite to snuff the spark of life,

And the night and stars are watching.
But desperate fingers still may grope
The Way, the Truth, the Door to home.

[Lily of Archenland]

Labradorite (Haiku)
[4/18/2022]

Dull and slate gray stone
Leaps to bright shimmering life,
Spectrum trapped within.

[Lily of Archenland]

When I'm not the giver anymore
[4/23/2022]

I wish I could be strong enough
To forge you armor,
To carry your burdens,
To be your pillar.
—
I wish I could hope well enough
To shine like a candle,
To sing like a mockingbird
Outside your window.
—
I wish I could just–
-lend you a tree to climb in so high
You could see every star in the sky.
-creep in the shadows and bare my teeth
At anything threatening from beneath.
-lend you the shelter of my cave
To hide when you’re tired of being brave.
–
But that is too much, it seems, for me.
All I have, all I can give,
Is careful hands
Repairing my own fragility.


Untangling
[4/23/2022]

Delving into recent history
I find
Clues to solve the compound mystery
My mind

I have the puzzle pieces
A stranger’s voice releases
The pattern they are matching
So I can see the plot we’re hatching.

Isn’t it curious?
I tried to conform to a dream
So small and spurious,
And saw stars in a dagger’s gleam.

[Lily of Archenland]

Birthday Roses
[4/25/2022]

Cut crystal gleams
In diamond latticework
Below deep pink buds and blooms.
Another year is flowering
Among green leaves.
Fully opened joys
Near to ending,
Buds proclaim potential.
You came in on a birthday,
Little bouquet.
Your perfume sings of what could be.


Exploring Together
[4/25/2022]

What is a dance with no partner, you ask?
What is the point of solo waltzing?
What is the tide without her moon,
The honeybee who can’t find her bloom?
—
I say there is value in dancing alone,
For the art, for the form, for the structure and freedom.
And the tide still comes in when the moon isn’t watching,
The bee is as real in the hive as out working.
—
But listen! You say, because you are lonely.
Solo can’t be the only way to dance,
And when the moon is asleep
The tide still doesn’t come in by chance.
The bee can rest, but she’ll still be needing
Another time to go hunting and feeding.
—
Can we reach out long enough to agree
That the world is bigger than you and me?
Solo or coupled, in darkness in moonlight,
Out in the vast meadow wandering…
This world is worth exploring and pondering.

[Lily of Archenland]

Blood & Answers
mostly Till We Have Faces
[4/26/2022]

Shiver and dodge a broken question,
Facets, angles, sharp and bright.
Try not to lodge rotten suggestion,
Send it back into the night.
–
Ungit calls for sacrifice,
Monster-faced beneath the veil.
“Holiness” must pay a price,
Drawn from far beyond the pale.
–
I will not accept the blight.
None deserves the old contagion.
Shoulder the load beneath the light,
Forge and heal an answered question.

[kristi]

Safety
[4/14/2022]

Is there a price high enough to pay?
What is safety, anyway?

As a philosophical point, I think the question is at what point is the price of safety too high? That's what ultimately causes good men to stop doing nothing. But perhaps I miss your point.

Holy Week
[4/15/2022]

It does not feel like Holy Week today.
I do not see the death of God at noon,
Nor hear the Tenebrae and know blood’s boon.
Two thousand years are just so far away.
It seems less like the cross, and more like Silent Saturday.

This poem feels sad, but I learned a new word. I had never heard of Tenebrae.

[Lily of Archenland]

Safety
[4/14/2022]

Is there a price high enough to pay?
What is safety, anyway?

As a philosophical point, I think the question is at what point is the price of safety too high? That's what ultimately causes good men to stop doing nothing. But perhaps I miss your point.

Ok, yeah, apparently I didn't convey the point very well.
My thing was less about a price for *personal* safety, and more a question of whether there was any way I could buy safety to give as a *gift* -- how do I protect struggling friends when I feel helpless to do so?

This poem feels sad, but I learned a new word. I had never heard of Tenebrae.

Hooray for new words! I love it when that happens.

[Lily of Archenland]

Childhood's Fruit
[4/26/2022]

Berries dot my childhood memories,
Peering out from bushes, vines, and leaves.
Blueberries earliest of all,
Frosty-pale and summer-sweet in farms.
A bigger, older hand to hold -
Perhaps grandfather in his white sun-hat -
And reckless seeking out of treasures,
Tempted into eating as I pick.
Black dewberry-creepers next,
The risky treasure,
Twined through neighborly chicken-wire.
Edge down the house’s alley
By the climbing-rock named Peter,
Pick carefully, or the thorns will take their price.
But most beware the Christmas-red,
Soft globes, yellow-white and sticky inside.
That red is a warning, a bright stoplight,
They are poison to children we know.
Good only for crushing underfoot,
Or decorating mud-pies,
Still stubbornly they grow.

[Lily of Archenland]

My Ward
[4/27/2022]

You are armed, little friend,
But for now all your weapons are sheathed.
You curl up softly, trusting me,
So vulnerable.
So small and soft, even fully grown.
You turn and close your eyes,
Believe in me to watch
Your downy back,
To bring you all good things
For the mewled asking.

[Lily of Archenland]

What's In A Name?
[4/27/2022]

What is the meaning behind a name?
How can you fathom and define it?
Always we think it must stay the same,
Telling your nature without blame,
So we can pin down and unwind it.

Into the depths of a heart it may wander,
Now we require permission to ponder.

Anyway we allow no ambiguity.

No calls in the house for self-definition
And no hidden facets or multiplicity
Make sense to a lens pinned down by rendition,
Entering language in synchronicity.