Hope

All Poems, Disappointment, Emotions, Hope, Loss

Disappointment

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Disappointments are ubiquitous.

Popping up all around us like toadstools.

Some large and intrusive.

Others, small, almost unseen.

But, everyone encounters them.

At one time or another.

Remember when a friend didn’t return a call?

A dinner date, called off?

A flight, cancelled?

A movie you wanted to see, uninspiring?

Having to choose between two important events on the same date?

Can you recall the feelings set off?

Disruption of joy?

Loss, sadness?

Anger, hurt?

What do you do?

When things just don’t work out the way you wished?

It helps me to contemplate nature.

At all the seeds dropping from trees.

Never germinating.

At birds’ nests poached.

By foxes or raccoons.

At cicadas drumming.

Not finding a mate.

All creatures, human and not, suffer disappointments.

I am not the only one.

I know I’d offer compassion to another.

So, I give it to my unsettled self.

Honor the feelings.

Scattered thoughts.

Till ready to move on.

Turning them into something worthwhile.

Some action.

Maybe writing, sharing, forgiving.

Perhaps disappointment, a toll for living.

Helping us grow strong and learn.

We’ll never want for practice.

It’s everywhere we turn!

Lynn Benjamin

June 24, 2024

All Poems, Children, For Children, Hope, Memories, Trees

Mulberry Bush

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Here we go round the mulberry bush, intoned Bob.

As we made a wide arc around it.

Not wanting to squish the black juicy berries strewn about.

On Red Oak Drive.

Since moving here, we’ve passed by this tree almost daily.

Always avoiding the fallen fruits in June.

Its foliage towering, green umbrella from on high.

Maybe growing for the last hundred years.

But, not as old as the nursery tune Bob sang.

Each year dropping sweet, seedy berries.

For birds and squirrels.

A few assorted neighbors daring to eat them from the ground.

For the branches are unreachable, even on tiptoe.

So, collecting them, impossible.

Not easy like with a raspberry or blackberry bush.

Both low to the ground.

For some reason, the familiar children’s melody, forgotten.

Even as we marched day after day past the tree.

Till Bob teased my playful child spirit.

The one chanting the song in early childhood.

On the long bus rides to and from day camp.

Then later to her own children.

Never really taking time to meet a mulberry bush.

Till now in old age.

But, as long as I breathe,

there’s always a chance,

I’ll encounter a first time

by glad happenstance.

 

Lynn Benjamin

June 21, 2024

Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush is an English nursery rhyme and game from the mid nineteenth century.

All Poems, Health/Illness, Hope, People Traits, Politics

Appreciation

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It was an extraordinary day.

Instead of pollen, breezes carried appreciation.

Landing where I’d not seen it before.

Starting with an emergency appointment in a dental chair.

Discovering an infection under a recent crown.

Having the fortune to see an endodontist the same afternoon.

For a root canal.

Painful, but necessary.

Arriving home to witness a trio of handymen.

Doing jobs around our house.

Repairing, painting, creating.

The artisans three.

Brothers who work together.

Know their craft well.

The finale.

Our justice system.

Convicting Donald J. Trump

On thirty-four felony counts.

The jury paying attention.

Evaluating.

Deliberating.

Honoring accountability.

A trait distinguishing people from animals in the wild.

Lifting them to the ethical realm.

Beyond guilt, shame.

To responsibility for actions taken.

Too bad for some, accountability happens in a court of law.

Rather than in their own repertoire of responses.

To behaviors, actions taken.

But, today’s verdict, victory for democracy.

For humanity.

For me, a day of appreciation.

Hope and gratitude.

Boosting high my spirits.

Elevating mood.

 

Lynn Benjamin

May 31, 2024

Ivan B.Nagy, M.D., one of the leaders of the family therapy movement, wrote extensively about accountability existing in an ethical realm above psychology.

All Poems, Hope, Panic, Sleep, Stories, Worry

Worries Pummel Me

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Worries pummel me all night like rain.

Unremitting tempest.

Body tossing.

This way, that, side to side.

In choppy waters.

Holding tight the rail.

With each dip, another thought.

What’s going on with a granddaughter?

Ferried to Montefiore Hospital for labs?

What’s happening in my mouth?

Pain tormenting me?

Will I get to the dental appointment at seven?

What are those aches in my body?

Knee, hip, shoulder.

Out of alignment from a fall.

On a city curb.

Unexpected, disorienting.

Then, the litany of intrusive flashes.

Unrecognizable silhouettes in a fog.

Names, faces of long lost cousins.

People I forgot to text.

Unanswerable questions.

Would I ever get back to Buenos Aires?

Does this or that person remember who I am?

So, it went.

Shifting, turning.

Shutting, opening eyes.

Waiting for dawn.

Release from pelting assault.

Too bad windows shuttered.

Keeping out last night’s storm.

For it’s song I long to hear.

Carolina wrens and catbirds.

Flapping from tree to tree.

Lullabies soothe my soul.

Restore my energy.

 

Lynn Benjamin

May 30, 2024

All Poems, Friendship, Health/Illness, Homages, Hope, Spirituality

Breath of Life

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To Diane

 

Inspiration is the breath of life.

Animating, energizing, propelling us forward.

In the face of injustice, sorrow, despair.

So, I actively seek it.

In persistence of a bee on lavender salvia.

Song of a tiny sparrow.

Dance of a swallowtail butterfly.

Renewal in springtime.

Rainbows after a storm.

In zestfulness of a friend.

Continuing to minister to people.

Through writings, teachings, listening.

Despite older age, illnesses.

Gnawing at the body.

Though strengthening spirit.

Arriving at my door with a bouquet.

Peruvian lilies, Persian daisies, a golden mum.

Delivering perfumes of hope.

Resilience.

Optimism.

In cloudy times.

Visits, like prayers, strengthen.

Refill empty spaces.

Transport to places not unreachable.

Except through connection with others.

A woman who teaches, inspires.

Mission to edify, uplift.

The intensity of her passion.

A heartening, curative gift.

 

Lynn Benjamin

May 26, 2024

All Poems, Environment/Mother Earth, For Children, Gardens, Hope, Natural Beauty

Something You Don’t Expect

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Do you ever stumble upon something you don’t expect?

Growing in a place you find strange?

From time to time, I do.

A single viola blooming between asphalt and curb.

A lone hosta in a bed of hydrangeas.

Hairy crabweed poking through sewer grates.

Broad-leaved helleborine smack in the middle of a lawn.

A cabbage stalk in a pot of basil.

Toadstools, all shapes, colors, popping up on hillsides, in gardens.

All little reminders of strength, resiliency.

Finding a place in a big world.

To settle, dream.

What would happen if vegetation could grow anywhere?

Mowing, manicuring, banished?

Like in the field in front of Morris Arboretum.

Where Rubus blackberries, comfrey, irises grow wild.

Tall, confident, unabashed.

Drawing all manner of birds, insects.

Spectators, oglers like me.

Stopping to stare, give praise.

Unsheared meadow, majesty.

 

Lynn Benjamin

May 21, 2024

  

All Poems, Animals/Insects, For Children, Hope, Natural Beauty, Pennypack Park, Plants, Sounds

Noises

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Where do you go?

When noises overwhelm?

Leaf blowers roar?

Wood-chippers whir?

Asphalt pavers rumble?

Newscasters argue?

Well, not far away is a quiet walkway.

Along Pennypack Creek.

Path with emerald canopy.

Tempting floral surprises.

Irises, fleabanes, buttercup figs, violet dames.

Riotous bouquets adorning each side.

Roses, empress blooms, honeysuckles.

Fragrance diffusers.

Geese idly sitting, watching passersby.

Gray catbirds flitting about.

Caterpillars inching along.

Here’s a place you can move.

March legs, swing arms.

Listen to the pat pad of your footfalls.

Watch blossoms whirl down.

Bathe in nature’s perfumes,

cleanse your lungs, your soul.

Breath sweetened by breezes.

Renewed, intact, whole.

Lynn Benjamin

May 16, 2024

All Poems, Animals/Insects, Emotions, Environment/Mother Earth, Hope, Natural Beauty, Plants, Politics, Seasons, Spirituality, Trauma, Violence, Wisdom, Worry

Madding Drumbeat

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The world, madding drumbeat of bad news.

Endless wars.

Unreleased hostages.

Political chicaneries.

Environmental catastrophes.

Where’s the relief?

Even for a moment?

From the echo chamber of the mind?

Playing, replaying the misery?

Where’s the reassurance things will rebalance?

When no one has a crystal ball.

But, everyone, an opinion.

The only comforts, what Mother Nature offers.

Predictability of seasons.

Awakening in spring.

Aromas of lilacs, viburnum bouquets.

Silent explosions of color.

Maple seed pods and mushrooms.

Pollen and nectar.

Honking and chirping.

Baby bunnies and geese.

Newness and vitality.

Energy to move us forward.

Appreciate a smile, kind word.

Offer the same to others.

Tiny attempts to heal what’s broken.

Make something whole.

Do for others what Mother Earth does for us.

In her generous embrace.

Take a breath.

Let the earth caress.

Find blessed respite.

From frenzied distress.

 

Lynn Benjamin

April 30, 2024

All Poems, Animals/Insects, Emotions, Hope, Natural Beauty, Pleasure, Worry

Easy to Lose Heart

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It’s easy to lose heart.

When countries ravage each other.

Arctic glaciers melt.

Corruption becomes the norm.

What do you do when the world careens out of order?

Justice seems beyond reach?

Disinformation sneaks into conversations?

I grab a hat, dash outside.

Wanting to study leaves opening on lindens.

Blossoms bursting on cherries, pears, crab apples.

Hyacinths, tulips popping up in gardens.

Turtles, frogs sunbathing around ponds.

A mother goose affixed to her nest.

Her partner circling in waters near her.

Wanting to hear robins, sparrows chirp.

Starlings screech, chatter.

Honey bees buzz on phlox, candy tufts, violets.

Soft breezes blow feathery branches.

Wanting to sniff pink tinged white viburnum blossoms.

Tangy lemon flowers.

Musty scents from showers the night before.

This eruption into spring

is balm for a fading heart.

Lullabies, aromas,

natural garden floral art.

 

Lynn Benjamin

April 24, 2024

Aging, All Poems, Family, Health/Illness, Hope, Spouses, Wisdom

Never Too Late

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It’s never too late to take care of your body.

Go to the gym.

Lift weights.

Stretch, build strength.

Even at seventy-five, it can make a difference.

As Bob notices.

Demonstrating his biceps.

Flatter belly.

Why didn’t he start earlier?

Always studying?

Rearing children?

Working long hours?

Tending to aging parents?

Believing he wasn’t athletic?

He spent years cultivating the mind.

Becoming a physician.

Treating patients day and night.

Who had time?

Stamina?

Motivation?

But, he’s honoring his body now.

Grateful it’s not too late.

Schedule full of bands, barbells.

No time to procrastinate.

 

Lynn Benjamin

April 14, 2024