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Thanks to Leigh Anne Eck for hosting Spiritual Journey Thursday and Tabatha Yeatts for stepping in to host Poetry Friday. The theme of SJT is change/transformation. Autumn is such a great time for this theme, Days are getting shorter, leaves are changing, and the mornings have a crispness to them. The sky even seems bluer. I am returning to SJT and Poetry Friday after being gone for about six weeks. As it often happens, while taking a rest, a break is good, returning always feels like a change, a groggy, sloggy return. Can I still write? Are there poems that eke out onto the page? What I planned to do while in Japan: sit, sketch, and write, didn't really happen. I was acclimating to heat and humidity, figuring out the trains and subways, and monitoring the impending typhoon. What calls to me is this quote :The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. — Lao Tse This is where I am. Taking that first step. Reaching out to my writing pals. Last Saturday, I was in an hour long writing session. I found Georgia Heard's Write Bites class to engage myself. Re-dedicating myself to reading the Two Sylvias Muse weekly newsletter. Last week, I also took another step in the area of returning to the practice of yoga. In Poetry Friday news, I was pleased to return home I early September and find my Haiku Society of America's (HSA)members' anthology. I have a haiku in this journal. Last May, I witnessed the aurora borealis and was so taken by the experience, I wrote this:
sky ribbons flutter I inhale aurora borealis If you were gifted the experience you know,  © Amber Fleek, Graphic
Janice at Salt City Verse has the hosting duties today. She's reflecting on the Christmas holiday and shares a haiku.
 circa, 1958 My brother, Jon and me
I was recently asked about how I decorate for the holidays. I have sections: a tabletop dedicated to two trees Mom made, a snowman table that stays up through January, the Nativity from my husband's childhood, and our little table top Christmas tree.
I put decorations up starting something in November as I feel moved. During childhood, though, it was different. We always had a real Christmas tree. However, my brother and I never saw the tree until Christmas morning. It was a gift from Santa along with the presents. Fully decorated, complete with tinsel. Shimmering and beautiful and magical. I never understood how Santa carried the presents and the trees. Fast forward to 1963, we'd moved to Simi Valley, a place where the Santa Ana winds roared a lot. The trees would be scrawny and in 1963, our tree brought unexcited visitors...flies . Yes, it hatched flies. And that was the end of real trees. The next year, 1964, began the tradition of the tree up early with a bright shiny and ALL new baubles adorning the branches. My parents threw away ALL the antique ornaments that magically appeared on Christmas Day. The only survivor of the family ornaments is the tree topper that is on my tree, Fragile and magical and a memory of childhood. 
Last Call for New Year Poetry Postcards
It's 16 days until the new year! And that means time to start thinking of sending New Year Post Cards! Our little group is at 16 and we'd love for you to join us! I will be sending out the groups by December 22, 2023.
Send five, send ten or send to all? In Japan, it’s called Nengajo, a Japanese custom of ushering in the new year.How It Works:
The Party is Here Next Week? Do You Have a Childhood of Winter or the Holidays to Share?
Welcome to December's Spiritual Journey Thursday. I am so honored to be hosting today.
Little did I know that when I signed up in January how an event earlier this week would modify what I was planning to write. On Monday, I awoke to news that three shining stars on earth moved to the heavens. This Mom and her two wonderful daughters (my former students) were victims of a mass shooting by their husband/father. Their uncle also was shot and then the shooter turned the gun on himself. It made me think of this quote by Fyodor Dostoevsky (1821 – 1881): The darker the night, the brighter the stars. The deeper the grief, the closer is God. We are in the season of darkness and waiting for the light to return. My grief is a bit deeper this week. When I look at the night sky, three stars will be shining in remembrance of these three souls. 
Husband and I had a reservation to lo have dinner and enjoy the Christmas ships Monday night, I saw this.
“Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness.” -- Archbishop Desmond Tutu Finally, I discovered this site and found this blessing at the Unitarian Universalist. (Linking is not working well.) A Blessing of Darkness and Light Delicate branches, at night, surround the light of the moon Blessed is the dark, in which our dreams stir and are revealed. Blessed is the dark of earth, where seeds come to life. Blessed are the depths of the ocean where no light shimmers: the womb of all earthly life. Blessed is the light into which we awake, the light that sparkles on the waters: that calls the tree forth from the seed, and calls the shadow forth from the tree. Blessed are we as we move through darkness and through light. Amy Zucker Morgenstern How do you honor/embrace this time of darkness? Where do you find the points of light in your life? In a few weeks, winter solstice will be here, how do honor this and Christmas? How do you use this time of year for self-reflection? |
AuthorAll photos and poems in these blog posts are copyrighted to Jone Rush MacCulloch 2006- Present. Please do not copy, reprint or reproduce without written permission from me. 
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