Keep Fighting Black

Keep Fighting Black

©2015 Susan Noyes Anderson

When trouble steals the blood that flows

beneath my rosy cheek––

when ashes gather round my eyes

and lips refuse to speak––

I let the sorrow carry me

on silvered wings––so high

that even in the darkness

I return as butterfly.

∞§∞

Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all the darkness.
–Desmond Tutu

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Happy Is As Happy Does

Happy Is As Happy Does

©2015 Susan Noyes Anderson

Happy is as happy does.

The focus rests on you.

When things go south, you make or break

your chosen point of view.

Don't get me wrong; feelings run strong,

and sorrow tends to breed.

But most times, you can turn the tide.

You own the mood you feed.

Your arms may reach for sky and find

your heart is still earthbound.

But looking up to find the sun

beats searching underground.

Bad things will come to everyone;

of that, there is no doubt.

But those who stand upright and fight

won't fall for down-and-out.

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Glad, Gladder, Gladdest

EVERYTHING OLD IS NEW AGAIN

Dave and I have decided that we're glad 2014 is over, gladder that 2015 is here, and gladdest that two new family members (namely, Karin's twins) will be with us when we enjoy 2016 in the not-so-distant future. Or at least, it will seem not-so-distant when it comes. Can you believe how quickly time passes these days? I could swear we just welcomed in a new year last month…or at the very least, in the early fall!

In fact, everything old gets new again so quickly that we can hardly catch our collective breath. (Or maybe we are just out of shape??) Either way, it feels like time is getting away from us, and our New Year's resolution is to make even our mundane moments more meaningful...not just by using alliteration to talk about them (though I do love me some alliteration), but by using inspiration to magnify, maximize, and memorialize them. The poem is written to myself as a reminder:

The Hour Ignored

©2015 Susan Noyes Anderson

Every day is worth its weight.

The years pass on, and soon or late

your fields will grow up gold and tall

or fade away to naught at all.

The scenery depends on you;

your way of living yields the view.

An hour embraced bears rich reward,

but what befalls the hour ignored?

Don't skitter through the days too fast.

The moments matter; make them last

or pay a price that costs you dear.

Time lost is loath to reappear.

Sow every hour in rows of gold.

Raise fields of glory to behold.

image © do trong hop

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