Best Renewal Poems
II. Nature's Cyclical Dance
End is not death. Changing into something new is good.
A leaf falls, then goes back into the dark soil.
Next year's flowers sleep under winter's quiet.
We fear the end, but nature shows us it's not bad.
Death is a new start.
My Anishinaabe mentor Little Deer laughed at my wide eyes.
That first forest walk, as he plucked a bright trillium —
"Cherish her fleeting beauty, but mourn her not, my friend.
This flower's death will birth a thousand more to come."
His people know life dances on; death is rebirth.
I hear them now. Those ancient voices riding wind's breath.
They speak through birch and pine... calling me back to the way —
Honoring and not fearing, the seasons' turning tides.
Each dawn's first birdsong and each brook's gentle murmuring
Echoing the rhythm pulsing through this wild...
and wondrous earth.
Let me join this cycle, rooted but free.
I'll welcome death and the return of life.
Like the forest floor, decay and new growth mix.
With every breath, I'll connect with the source.
This cycle of life, death, and being born again is a gift.
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"The Sacred Forest, a Nurturing Mother, never lets life die, / But reclaims, recycles, and rebirths in her eternal lullaby." - Daniel Henry Rodgers
Under the storm clouds
the rain starts to
wash away
Creating streams
that carve through earth
and broken stone.
Sometimes everything
has to be
eroded and
worn away
so you can find
the solid ground
that was there
all along.
Sometimes it takes
a heavy downpour
to reveal that
small, clear
and steady
spring of peace
within your heart.
Sometimes with
the splintered remains
of the old bridge
you've crossed before,
someone has crafted
something new
from the weathered wood
of your own story.
You are not drowning
you are learning to swim.
In time
The winter winds
Erase the old year's scars
Leaving a fresh canvas to paint
Again
August’s dry winds scorch the landscape
While I sit here in the shade of a weeping willow
Watching tiny dust devils twirl and spin along the pavement
Living heat dances, wavering gently the scenery before my eyes
While poppies and gladiolas wither limply on their stem
But the peridot sweet, with its pale green color
Reminds me instantly of renewing spring
As the sun sparks a glitter from this
Precious gift I wear on my finger
Perhaps or simply perchance
It’s why it was chosen
This transparent
Semiprecious
Form of
Olivine
Cloudless sky, naked shades of azure.
Oh, summer vibrant, resplendent sun,
We thank Lugh for his longest luster,
Grateful for the bounty he gives everyone.
Sun lights awareness in every entity.
Oh, boldest, brightest waking day,
Season of growth, splendor, and fertility.
Abundant Earth is teeming with DNA.
We plant the new seeds in our souls.
Oh, wondrous, endless fire regenerative,
May we sip from love and passion’s bowls.
May we always pause, reflect and be appreciative.
Each summer we must willingly shed our tropes,
And rediscover each other with newfound hopes.
The gentle rain that falls
and trickles down the walls
of gardens in the park
and wakes the Meadow Lark,
refreshes crocus blooms
as all of life exhumes.
What joy the season brings
with coming of the Spring.
March 14, 2020
I saw the cutest snowman
with his happy icy heart
perfectly fat
and tipping his hat
with one candles light to impart
No question his hat was of magic
and the fur of his trimmed coat was fine
but the smile he wore
you can’t help but adore
and the art of the moment refined
Kinkade was always a favorite
being known as the painter of light
so the art on his coat
and the scarf round his throat
were truly a beautiful sight
Then I saw it was a series
and plays 8 different Christmas songs
I thought this is the one
where I’d say I’d begun
to really let go of the wrongs
For me he’ll be hopes for the future
instead of warm memories of old
my memories of that
have deflated to flat
most are just frigid and cold
But just like this icy snowman
adorned in his beautiful art
I think that it’s time
for this cold heart of mine
to make a more meaningful start
I feel just like this snowman
to say as much is true
so I’m going to start
to wear my art
and proudly show it to you
I’ll still be cold and frigid
since I’m only made of snow
but my art is the part
of my icy cold heart
that sometimes makes me glow
It was the feathered purple of a blossoming iris,
kissing the laden air
with trembling lips.
I was awakened by its fragrance,
the newness of its ancient story,
told yet again by a moistening earth
in silvery birdsong.
Sometimes,
I have missed the turning from gelid and motionless
to the softening sway that unerringly follows.
I have been embittered—
brittle and bare as a crooked branch,
scraping a vacuous sky—
but not this time.
This time, the tenderest breeze,
prodded by the fingers of a spreading sun,
finds me waiting—
eyes closed, smile turned eagerly upwards
to greet the renewal
of creation.
Spring will forever be the time for renewals when brisk fresh air invigorates our drowsy muse. Tickling every inner child, beckoning them to come out for a playdate. And ever so gleefully we crack open the treasure chest of possibilities, dust it off to see what gems we can uncover.
dawn of
fresh beginnings
old shoes new paths
AP: 2nd place 2025, Honorable Mention 2025
Submitted on March 7, 2021 for contest SPRINGTIME HAIBUN sponsored by M.L. KAISER - RANKED 1ST
Been so broken down, baby
Isolated, shuttered,
Dilipidated; in disrepair
Been so sad and empty
Before you, I didn't wanna care
I had lost all hope and drive
To continue even trying
Void of volition
Drifting from day to day
With no desire - no ambition
All that's changed now, sugar
Cos from out of nowhere, you've finally arrived
To prove you're not going anywhere.
Your kindness and concern for my welfare
Soothe my tired soul
And rejuvenate
My sullen spirit
Thank you endlessly
For patiently and relentlessly
Chiseling and chipping away
At my recalcitrant heart
Gone are the days of
Thinking my lot in life won't improve
You have resurrected my desire to love
You're my richest, sweetest treasure
Boon to my existence
You must be
Heaven sent
You're a little late, my honey,
But that's OK, my angel,
Your untimely arrival
Is a much-needed surprise.
You're a blessing to my well-being
My game-changer; my lifesaver
Before I was bitter, sour - on my own
I'm savoring your hugs and kisses
What we have is priceless
You've rekindled my inner glow
Promise me, baby, we'll work together to retain what we have found
So that we shall never wither away
Impenetrable and tightly woven
Together, as one, we will grow stronger.
Meditating woods,
Embraced by the garish sun;
Exhaling fresh air.
Beyond Despair
despair
heavy, discordant
stomping, injuring, impeding
stamina, outlook, impulse, dreams
refreshing, aiding, inspiriting
priceless, heartfelt
hope
I dreamed a dance without one step
no rhythm and no melody
no time to keep, no need for feet
wherein lay every remedy...
For broken hearts and beaten souls
and bodies begging for repair
as each does pay a hefty toll
along this journey we all share.
It was in silence wrapped in gold
we found no urgency for words
no need for rhyme; we knew this time
each thought would never go unheard.
And though some may not understand
the beauty that lay in the still
It brings to us eternity...
Renewed in strength, restored in will.
very slight editing 3/19/23
Beneath the pallid moon’s cool grace
Icy boughs in silence bow
Where frost veils the earth in lace
Winter whispers through them now.
The wind, a cello’s mournful cry
Its melody, a haunting dirge
A dark pall shrouds the twilight sky
As Death’s cold clasp begins to surge.
Yet still, ‘neath the chill, beauty lies
Winter weeps as ice melts away
A spark that stirs the soul to rise
As Spring’s soft breath revives the day.
As the sun warms the frozen land
Winter yields its frigid, cruel hand.
Rebirth
Grey ghostly clarions
Swiftly travel
To the east of darkling day
Riding on a dirge wind
Blowing harsh
Over waters that reflect
The fading dawn
When they turn to blood red,
Glowing crimson,
As they color the vast and swirling grey
Trumpeting to the earth,
With light retreating,
The call of night
Where black and twisting tree limbs
Stretch
Into the clarion sky
To grasp at daylight fleeing
While through their naked
Leafless fingers
Arias of monotones
Rise up on whistling winds
As unbelieving earth implores
The gloom descending,
With feeble lights,
Be gone!
Then wait beneath the clarion shadows
Entombed in sleep –
Still as death, chilled and numb –
For the morning star to spread
Like warm fingers
Across the ghostly clarions
Turning them into the daystar’s turquoise pearl,
Telling lightless earth
“Arise!”
See life reborn in light!