liminal: savouring the sacred space in-between the now and the next

Honour the space between no longer and not yet — Nancy Levin

Liminal days

Caught in apricity 
as I savour the unexpected 
warmth of this wintry
sun, arriving soon after
a deluge of rain, witnessing 
the drama which unfolds
in contrasts, where light kisses dark
and light doesn’t pull back
because it carries 
difference in its golden heart.

These are liminal 
days, dancing on the edge
where a new season appears
to break, with sun revealing 
snowdrops, crocuses, incipient
daffodils, tender green fronds 
of beautiful bluebells to come,
eclipsed by what remains—
the spare, bare bones of winter
still grimly holding on.

My soul sits in ice sometimes 
because it’s waiting for a thaw
to relax it into love, plant it
in peace, persuade it to take 
a deeper breath, a longer
look, a calmer exhale, 
and to shift gratitude to 
a whole new level, as I face
the need to open up
to mercy flowering from above.

It isn’t arduous,
it doesn’t take much at all 
for us to reorient ourselves 
back to joy and faith when 
we see evidence of spring,
note vital change occurring 
and sense our souls being
set adrift, freed from winter’s 
harsher grip, as we float calmly
toward signs of hope unzipped. 
© joylenton

prism: seeing life through the lens of poetry

How do you define poetry? It could be summed up simply as a mix of words with metre, rhythm and rhyme, but that’s not always the case. I think of it as layered thoughts, slant storytelling, with a musicality that’s either deliberate or unsought. One of the joys of poetry is the rich variety that exists.

My latest poem describes the way poetry behaves by imagining it acting like a lens, a prism through which we see life and understand thoughts. It might look distorted sometimes, indistinct even, because each poem connects in a different way with every reader.

Yet the shaft of poetry’s luminous rays can offer insight, hope, joy and grace to others. My hope and prayer is that I can connect heart to heart with the words I share, and I hope you’ll get something out of this poem.

Creation of prisms 

Poetry is the creation of prisms
reflecting the light inside,
refracting each single word
that flies arrow-like, rainbow-bright,
to hit its intended target,
splintering apart
as each paper plane dives deep down,
weaving through the path
of an open, receptive heart.

Poetry can miss the mark,
become unintelligible 
to others, those who fail
to discern each line’s 
vitality, the secret messages
it speaks into being,
a dart of thought to the soul,
a tiny glint of light
delivered in morse code.

Poetry is a vital, living thing,
an entity that speaks 
a universe of thoughts
in differing tongues 
to different people tasked
with translating it,
or simply sitting with a piece,
comprehending its worth
in the presence of mystery.
© joylenton

I’ve defined poetry in various ways over the years. It’s an elusive art to pin down easily, speaking as it does to mind and heart. One description can be found on my ‘Why poetry joy?’ page. I’m intrigued by the varying perspectives and would love you to share your definitions/descriptions too. Perhaps, like mine, they alter depending on what season of life you are in and what speaks to you most. 🙂 ❤