Restoration

This is it. I've reached a time to pause with sharing poetry. I'll end with my newest piece that I'm not entirely sure is complete yet. It's at least close . . . just think it doesn't quite express exactly what I want to convey.

Restoration

Magnificent is the making of things.

Breaking lays low.

Expectation bows

To invincible strength

Building humble hope.

Crack and crumble, eroded soul.

Heaven keeps vigil as you yield fast,

Releasing control.

Created is being recast.

As it is with mountains,

Even more so it is with you.

My soul, wait in silence for God only, for my hope is from Him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my stronghold; I shall not be shaken.-Psalm 62:5-6

This blog post is part of a series of writing (Feb.-March 2014) by Tammy Fletcher Bergland sharing original poetry. tbergland.blogspot.com  

Click here to see my disclaimer and what I’m up to with this season of blog posts.

Let’s Not Live Restless

My second-to-last poem for the season, hopefully a good encouragement for this Saturday and the days to come. 

Let’s Not Live Restless

Like those who wait for the morning,

Awake while night stretches

Without light

Without stillness inside,

Turning and tossing away years,

Considering dreams,

Pressing toward anticipated ends,

Sleep walking through

Resplendence dawning

Again and again and again

Regardless.

My soul, wait in silence for God only, for my hope is from Him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my stronghold; I shall not be shaken.-Psalm 62:5-6

This blog post is part of a series of writing (Feb.-March 2014) by Tammy Fletcher Bergland sharing original poetry. tbergland.blogspot.com  

Click here to see my disclaimer and what I’m up to with this season of blog posts.

To The One Who Asked To Grow Old With Me

Because today is just an ordinary day (and NOT Valentine's Day), here's an every day love poem.

To The One Who Asked To Grow Old With Me

Years layer upon years

On faces we used to know,

Hands we once held,

Legs that once carried us

Through playful youth

When today was endless

And others were old.

Days pile upon days

And time moves quickly

In this age when

Yesterdays seem like lifetimes

When eyes search for

Signs of those we used to gaze upon

Before time reshaped,

Grayed and folded us

Into what we once called old.

Your eyes pull me into you

More than ever now

Age has made you dearer to me.

I touch your face and

Feel moments

And

Days

And

Years

That have carried you to me

Just as we are now,

My Love today

And for as long as tomorrows come.

My soul, wait in silence for God only, for my hope is from Him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my stronghold; I shall not be shaken.-Psalm 62:5-6

This blog post is part of a series of writing (Feb.-March 2014) by Tammy Fletcher Bergland sharing original poetry. tbergland.blogspot.com  

Click here to see my disclaimer and what I’m up to with this season of blog posts.

Inspiration

Inspiration

Breathing in

The now,

Searching for something

Spoken

From eternity

In to time.

You whisper.

Holy.

My soul, wait in silence for God only, for my hope is from Him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my stronghold; I shall not be shaken.-Psalm 62:5-6

This blog post is part of a series of writing (Feb.-March 2014) by Tammy Fletcher Bergland sharing original poetry. tbergland.blogspot.com  

Click here to see my disclaimer and what I’m up to with this season of blog posts.

Saints Among Us

Saints Among Us

Have you known them?

Like concentrated stardust,

Burned, fallen, not of this world--

Those whose life sentences have been spoken,

Suffered, surrendered.

Wisdom embraces scarred kindred,

Fully sentient in slowed time of

Furlough. Repentance. Remission.

Soothing worn spirits. Simple pleasures.

Living, humbled to be permitted presence.

As temporal shimmers translucent,

Have you glimpsed eternal embers

Ready to blaze

Warmed

Reverent

Peace?

My soul, wait in silence for God only, for my hope is from Him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my stronghold; I shall not be shaken.-Psalm 62:5-6

This blog post is part of a series of writing (Feb.-March 2014) by Tammy Fletcher Bergland sharing original poetry. tbergland.blogspot.com  

Click here to see my disclaimer and what I’m up to with this season of blog posts.

Preserving

As life just keeps coming at us, let's keep on going!

Preserving

Strawberries planted in an earlier season

Ripen unbidden

Without concern

I’m not ready.

A friend calls from the hospital with news.

The anniversary I’d like to forget comes round again.

Children outgrow childhood and go.

I wake with the sun for back-aching work

And pile fruit in my pail.

Freshness is fleeting.

Taught by my grandma,

I know how to preserve.

And so I shall.

My soul, wait in silence for God only, for my hope is from Him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my stronghold; I shall not be shaken.-Psalm 62:5-6

This blog post is part of a series of writing (Feb.-March 2014) by Tammy Fletcher Bergland sharing original poetry. tbergland.blogspot.com  

Click here to see my disclaimer and what I’m up to with this season of blog posts.

I'm Afraid

This is dedicated to all those Gen Xers who have early memories of the Mr. Tidy Bowl commercial. That guy freaked me out!

I'm Afraid

I'm afraid.

Don’t make me go!

I’d rather stub my little toe.

I bet there’re monsters.

I bet there’re snakes.

And they drown little kids

In great big lakes!

I’m afraid!

I’d rather cut off my feet.

Don’t make me sit

On that cold, scary seat!

YOU’RE not afraid--

You’re not small.

If I get near the edge,

I know I will fall.

I’m afraid

Of Mr. Tidy Bowl.
I bet he’s really

An ugly, green troll.

I say, “I’m scared.”

You tell, “Hush!”

But what if I fall in--

AND GET FLUSHED?!

My soul, wait in silence for God only, for my hope is from Him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my stronghold; I shall not be shaken.-Psalm 62:5-6

This blog post is part of a series of writing (Feb.-March 2014) by Tammy Fletcher Bergland sharing original poetry. tbergland.blogspot.com  

Click here to see my disclaimer and what I’m up to with this season of blog posts.

Acceptance

Some change is exceptionally hard! May we all have the courage and the vision to embrace the good that can come from the flux in and around us. 

Acceptance

Grieving no more

For what is not.

Molded each moment,

I’m not

Who I was.

My soul, wait in silence for God only, for my hope is from Him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my stronghold; I shall not be shaken.-Psalm 62:5-6

This blog post is part of a series of writing (Feb.-March 2014) by Tammy Fletcher Bergland sharing original poetry. tbergland.blogspot.com  

Click here to see my disclaimer and what I’m up to with this season of blog posts.

Take the Time

My office desk clock was correct at the beginning of the day, yet watching it made me an hour late to a meeting at the end of the day. I thought I was in a great, productive zone until I realized my clock had gifted me with an extra hour . . . how thoughtful! In recognition of today's experience and our recent time change, here's an old song I wrote back in college that you're welcome to create some music for (if you give me credit for the words)! 

Take the Time

a pop song that needs music

v. 1

Books left unwritten

Songs left unsung

Words left unsaid

Because we’re on the run.

Why don’t we learn

Today is all we have?

The past is gone.

Tomorrow may not come.

The moment is fading fast

Inside, we fear it won’t last.

Chorus

If we could hold time

And all the words rhymed

For eternity,

Think how life would be.

But time slips away

In seconds of a day.

We’ve gotta take the time.

We can’t be so blind.

2nd time only

I want to love you.

Don’t be so blind.

v. 2

We have each moment

In the moments of our lives.

We have our dreams.

Don’t squander them with whys.

Life is a gift

That’s both good and bad.

We can live it now

Or think what what we could’ve had.

It’s tempting to dream away.

Don’t forget; we only have today.

Chorus

The moment is fading fast.

Inside we know it won’t last.

Chorus

It’s tempting to dream away.

Don’t forget. We only have today.

We’ve gotta take the time. We’ve gotta make the time.

We’ve gotta make the time. We’ve gotta take the time.



My soul, wait in silence for God only, for my hope is from Him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my stronghold; I shall not be shaken.-Psalm 62:5-6

This blog post is part of a series of writing (Feb.-March 2014) by Tammy Fletcher Bergland sharing original poetry. tbergland.blogspot.com  

Click here to see my disclaimer and what I’m up to with this season of blog posts.

Forgive His Trespasses

Forgive His Trespasses

Before this age of weakened eyes and mind,

Before his bitter humor had such bite,

He was a strong and ordinary man

Until unforgivable outrage left him blind

With loathing for his days, his very life.

Yes, once he was a well-respected man.

Back in the days of work and health and hope

With wife and son and daddy’s little girl,

His mid-life self was proud of all he’d built

With intellect. He’d labored up life’s slope

To give much more than his own childhood world

Had offered him with all its ugly guilt.

He was strict and loud, a caring dad.

He made up stories, handed out advice.

Our boy stuck to him as with glue.

He loved his wife and girl, was rarely mad.

He provided for us all. He sacrificed.

Years passed as years do pass. The children grew.

Then came the night we’ve lived a million times,

A night of circumstance he’s wished he could prevent:

Our teenaged girl, by chance, wrong place, alone,

Died, the victim of unspeakable crimes.

And came the call, the news, the long lament.

A father’s rage. Our family crumbled in a groan.

I’ve walked with him through life that’s felt like death.

Our son detests his father’s madnesses.

And I’ve grown weak, can’t provide his care.

Please treat him well, until his dying breath.

I ask that you forgive his trespasses,

For those who trespassed against us caused such despair.

My soul, wait in silence for God only, for my hope is from Him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my stronghold; I shall not be shaken.-Psalm 62:5-6

This blog post is part of a series of writing (Feb.-March 2014) by Tammy Fletcher Bergland sharing original poetry. tbergland.blogspot.com  

Click here to see my disclaimer and what I’m up to with this season of blog posts.

Grandma Said Growing Old Was a Tragic Thing

Grandma Said Growing Old Was a Tragic Thing

It began with one,

One close,

Taken mortally ill too early.

And then another, a shock,

A strike to the soul.

With the third, I screamed

To be taken

My self severed,

Body traipsed

Through seasons.

New birth.

More death.

Still.

I sojourn.


The photo above shows some of my everyday Grandma's things that now live in an old steamer trunk of hers in my bedroom. Because I can no longer call or give either of my grandmas a hug, I'm starting off my day by embracing all of them that lives on in me. I should write about my Sunday Grandma one of these days, but for now, I'm glad I peeked backwards at An X in the Circle of Life that does a pretty good job of capturing a bit of my life with Grandma Fletcher. I hope it makes you smile. 

What about you and your grandparents? I'm all ears!

My soul, wait in silence for God only, for my hope is from Him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my stronghold; I shall not be shaken.-Psalm 62:5-6

This blog post is part of a series of writing (Feb.-March 2014) by Tammy Fletcher Bergland sharing original poetry. tbergland.blogspot.com  

Click here to see my disclaimer and what I’m up to with this season of blog posts.

Longing

Longing

Savored torment

Entwines two together as one

Though they’re apart without end.

Parched for the other,

Breath brushes against breath,

An ever-present yearning

Fitting desire to desire

In unseen in-between space,

Attempting to cool passion

That must remain unkindled.

Allowed others sustain

‘Til time’s drought

Withers earthly existence.

Oh, would that their unfettered selves

Flow together

As streams of running water,

Wholly inseparable,

Fulfilled.

My soul, wait in silence for God only, for my hope is from Him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my stronghold; I shall not be shaken.-Psalm 62:5-6

This blog post is part of a series of writing (Feb.-March 2014) by Tammy Fletcher Bergland sharing original poetry. tbergland.blogspot.com  

Click here to see my disclaimer and what I’m up to with this season of blog posts.

Rain in the City

I adore good, Midwestern thunderstorms, but as a farm-girl, I cringe at rain on non-growing things. I'm eager for winter to pass and to smell fresh, spring soil again!

Rain in the City

Thunderous rumbling

echoes

above

blaring horns.

Flashes of mystical

brightness flicker

across already lighted night sky.

Wetness spatters

against concrete and then

falls faster

and faster,

pounding refreshment

into the resistant city.

Rolling black rubber

slides over

glistening surface

and sprays

life

from above

into the gutter

where a rotting field of rubbish

futiley drinks.

My soul, wait in silence for God only, for my hope is from Him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my stronghold; I shall not be shaken.-Psalm 62:5-6

This blog post is part of a series of writing (Feb.-March 2014) by Tammy Fletcher Bergland sharing original poetry. tbergland.blogspot.com  

Click here to see my disclaimer and what I’m up to with this season of blog posts.