Stopping by from the July One Word Link-up.

Wow–just wow, Lynn!!! What you do with your poetry is amazing. The fewer words in your poem are much better than my post; I should trade it out! lol. For someone who says she uses a lot of words to say things, you have such a gift also to strip away unnecessary words to get to the heart of the matter. Thank you for putting this together and sharing it with me. It’s a treasure that will ripple with me a long distance!

I’m continuing to reflect especially on these lines:

Instead, punch breathing holes,
breathing into the light,
holding onto the wonder.

Then release back into the wild
your one, bare hope
glowing
with fireflies at twilight

These are generally called “found” poems, b/c the poet finds his/her poem midst the words of another’s. The original author is due real credit; and yet, the new poem is a new creation. I learned tons from your wonderful insights, and further ones when I fleshed out a poem

The rules for found poems (which I prefer to call “buried treasure” poems) is that there are no rules. Generally, the words are yours, though many are obviously originated and re-lineated. Plus, to make it sensical, sometimes the poet needs to add words of her own, whether to finish a thought grammatically, or perhaps to add another twist, such as I did with the word, “hiding.”

Anyway, see what you think, and thank you again so much for your creative, thought-provoking inspiration!

Muchlove,
Lynn
Too sleepy to proof!

LISA, YOU’RE SO KIND. I DOUBT THIS WILL FORMAT CORRECTLY, SO I WILL ALSO SEND YOU A PDF PERSONALLY, BUT HERE ‘TIS (HOWEVER IT APPEARS). THANK *YOU* FOR THE WONDERFUL INSPIRATION!!

Flickers of Light: Hope for Today, Hope for Tomorrow
A Buried-Treasure Poem
by Lynn D Morrissey

Excavated from
“When They Start Blinking, May You Remember”
by Lisa Burgess

Dusk on a summer night swings with birds
and bird songs.

And then—there they are—
fireflies.

First, see flickers of light
floating quietly,
just watching.

Moments hold great meaning:
A lightning bug blinking
on a blade of grass.

Memories of light break the silence,
so don’t chase what you prefer.

Stay here and
let memories surface
till the light appears.

Don’t run into the house
to find emptiness in a dark room.

Instead, punch breathing holes,
breathing into the light,
holding onto the wonder.

Then release back into the wild
your one, bare hope
glowing
with fireflies at twilight

The Light is still here,
still there
(still everywhere).

What felt like magic back then
can become magic tonight
and again and again,
tomorrow.

Somewhere between rushing
dashing,
hurrying,
hiding,
we don’t notice.

But trust all that’s true
will still show up.

Notice what matters,
like lots of tiny, quiet moments
of magic
every day,
every night.

Be still long enough to see …
crackles of lightning,
flowers perking,
neighbors stopping.

They matter for their beauty and amazement
toward flourishing.

Let these moments ripple …

Let the fireflies’ flickers remind
you to linger longer,
to appreciate intentionally
even in the whirl of time,
the soon-enough spin.

For now,
stay in this moment long enough
to let it ripple
into your heart and mind—

then gently release it as hope for today
and
hope for tomorrow …

We also have glow worms which are majestical in cave entrances. I have seen the Fluorescent Algae in the sea though which shows it’s presence in a bright blue Fluorescence in the water & the waves at night when disturbed, absolutely majestical.
Yes there is definitely the extraordinary in the ordinary.
Blessings, Jennifer

I really want to see the poem! If WordPress will let you, please post it here! If not, could you email it to me? Thank YOU! I know it will be wonderful. 🙂