The Beauty of Aging

young caterpillar
earthbound, feeding youth’s hunger
creates a cocoon
shaping wings, gaining wisdom
old butterfly soul soaring

©2018 Linda Lee Lyberg

Carpe Diem Weekend Meditation:http://chevrefeuillescarpediem.blogspot.com/2018/11/carpe-diem-weekend-meditation-61-new.html

Carpe Diem Dives Into The Classical Literature and asks “is it possible to create haiku, tanka or other form of Japanese poetry from it?”

For this first episode, we have an excerpt of Plato’s “The Republic”:

[…] “I will tell you, Socrates, he said, what my own feeling is. Men of my age flock together; we are birds of a feather, as the old proverb says; and at our meetings the tale of my acquaintance commonly is–I cannot eat, I cannot drink; the pleasures of youth and love are fled away: there was a good time once, but now that is gone, and life is no longer life. Some complain of the slights which are put upon them by relations, and they will tell you sadly of how many evils their old age is the cause. But to me, Socrates, these complainers seem to blame that which is not really in fault. For if old age were the cause, I too being old, and every other old man, would have felt as they do. But this is not my own experience, nor that of others whom I have known. How well I remember the aged poet Sophocles, when in answer to the question, How does love suit with age, Sophocles,–are you still the man you were? Peace, he replied; most gladly have I escaped the thing of which you speak; I feel as if I had escaped from a mad and furious master. His words have often occurred to my mind since, and they seem as good to me now as at the time when he uttered them. For certainly old age has a great sense of calm and freedom; when the passions relax their hold, then, as Sophocles says, we are freed from the grasp not of one mad master only, but of many. The truth is, Socrates, that these regrets, and also the complaints about relations, are to be attributed to the same cause, which is not old age, but men’s characters and tempers; for he who is of a calm and happy nature will hardly feel the pressure of age, but to him who is of an opposite disposition youth and age are equally a burden.
I listened in admiration, and wanting to draw him out, that he might go on–Yes, Cephalus, I said: but I rather suspect that people in general are not convinced by you when you speak thus; they think that old age sits lightly upon you, not because of your happy disposition, but because you are rich, and wealth is well known to be a great comforter.”[…] (Plato’s The Republic)


Promote Yourself Monday – December 3, 2018

Good Morning everyone, It’s Promote Yourself Monday over at the Go Dog Go Cafe. Come join in the fun by posting your latest poem on the Cafe site, read, and comment on others. Have a fabulous day!

Splendor in Sepia

Jessie Tarbox Beals
America’s first female photojournalist
c. 1904

Making sense of black and white when we fall into the grey
Understanding where the lines lie in this dramatic play


Looking through the camera lens with crystal clarity
Creating a somber mood with a stark disparity


Trying to capture what is real not how they wish to be seen
skillful eye looks beyond outer skin, peers into a soul deep


And in the light of the false, a flash takes her aback
and there in sepia -toned splendor with a startled shock
is the real she, peering back at me


©2018 Linda Lee Lyberg

Imaginary Toads:http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2018/12/camera-flash-55.html

Poets United:http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/2018/12/poetry-pantry-431.html

Winter’s Cocoon

“No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn.” –Hal Borland

Silence
icy snowflakes
drifting by the window
sizzling crackle of glowing fire
pure bliss
a peaceful refuge for our love
sheltered from winter’s wind
wrapped in a warm
cocoon

©2018 Linda Lee Lyberg

Colleen’s Weekly Poetry Challenge:https://colleenchesebro.com/2018/11/27/colleens-weekly-tanka-tuesday-poetry-challenge-no-112-cold-safe-synonymsonly/

Music in D(eath) for Lost Souls

He plays the music calling lost souls who wander from life to life
These pitiful beings who can never seem to get living quite right

They return to earth over and over, to learn what they didn’t before
Traveling the treacherous seven seas, searching every windswept shore

For though they’ve had many lives, they’ve never grown beyond
Those early un-lived ones and the questions they have spawned

As they hear the haunting music, to maestro they beg and plead
to help them find their other half to live as one through eternity

But what these pitiful tortured souls will never understand
Is that their hidden future lies in the palm of their own hand

©2018 Linda Lee Lyberg

What Do You See?:https://helenevaillant.com/2018/11/27/what-do-you-see-nov-27-2018/

V.J.s Weekly Challenge: https://onewomansquest.org/2018/11/26/v-j-s-weekly-challenge-25-un-lived-lives/

©2018 Linda Lee Lyberg

Autumn Memories

Autumn always brings memories of you. I see your eyes in the bright turquoise sky, and I hear your cadence in the birdsong outside my window. I watched a video of you singing, and I wondered, why did you silence your voice? Did you believe there was no other way?


autumn leaves decay

rain still falls, sadness remains

as mourning doves coo

©2018 Linda Lee Lyberg

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads:http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2018/11/mono-no-aware.html

Also linking to dVerseOLN: https://dversepoets.com/2018/11/29/open-link-night-233/