I am honored and grateful to be included in Gabriela Marie Milton’s upcoming anthology of haiku! This is the second anthology I’ve been part of following the beautiful Petals of Haiku released in May 2024. Thank you again, Gabriela and Literary Revelations for believing in my work. 🙏
From Gabriela’s blog post:
@LR_Publisher, just sent out letters of acceptance (or rejection) for our upcoming book Tranquility: An Anthology of Haiku. Congratulations to everyone who was accepted. Please help me spread the news. Soon, we will send you the whole design of the cover – as you know, the art on the cover belongs to Japanese artist Hikari and the fine art photography included in the book to Japanese artist Naoki Kimura. Over 240 authors were included.
All photos courtesy of Literary RevelationsPublishing House.
For more information and gorgeous photography by Naoki Kimura, and to read beautiful and evocative poetry by Gabriela and other poets she features, please visit her site by clicking the link below.
Nighttime falls inside the doors of the beautiful hotel an experience to tuck away in my memory box Many sprint here and there following their agendas in the midst of mild chaos – some scrambling from point A to point B, wondering what happens next or maybe they’ll discover a cozy spot like mine with a small, round table and chair in my private slice of darkness
An unexpected power outage doesn’t stop me Who doesn’t wish for a little light, but functioning without it… bring on the adventure!
As I look around in blackness and listen, words flutter nearby I feel their gentle presence like a hummingbird’s I exercise patience, pen in hand, journal lying open like a flower in bloom ready to soak up sunshine A page lies in wait until it feels satisfied with vowels and consonants tumbling upon its lined surface
The flameless candles glow, yellows dance a jig, comfort in my bones chaos maybe, but laughter echoes in the distance I accept a complimentary champagne validating my existence And so, it is in darkness when I become inspired
Copper crossed over the rainbow bridge, and I don’t know how we made it through from last Monday, a very sad and emotional day, to today. It’s been tough. Loss is Loss. He wasn’t just a dog, he was family, and for thirteen years he was in our lives. So, it takes more than a day or two, or even a week to move forward without a broken heart. Truth is, I don’t know how long it will take. But in between the tearful moments from missing him beyond words – from not being able to pet him, kiss him on the top of his soft head, feel his silky ears, or bury our faces in his fur, we find joy in the life we had with him, how he enriched our lives with his unconditional love. It’s serendipitous to know that he came into our lives in March 2012 and left our earthly world in March 2025. All we can do is give ourselves grace (my daughter’s advice), and continue to take one day at a time.
I’ve been writing a lot, as my good friend, Resa from https://graffitiluxandmurals.com/, advised me to do. Her words, “Fall on your pen!” So I share this poem with you today; it’s still new with possible editing in the future, but it fits for today from my heart to yours:
Loss is Loss
Death comes in many forms Death can be tragic Death can be anticipated Regardless, when a loved one passes whether human or pet loss is loss hearts still break open tears fall until there are no more stages of grief call us and we answer submitting to erratic emotions to heaviness in heart and limbs to wondering if the sun will rise again and no matter what triggers the pain we must offer ourselves grace… to grieve as we should to mourn as days unfold Loss is loss shattering us into tiny pieces of uncertainty until the healing of time brings those pieces back together.
Thank you for ‘being there’ for me and my family, and I look forward to reading your wonderful posts again. And if you have a dog or cat, give them a hug for me. ❤️
Last Sunday we took Copper, our 14 1/2 year old puppy, to our favorite state park. The weather was cool but not freezing, just perfect for a walk among the redwoods. Copper loved walking around, taking in the new sights and smells. He can’t hear anymore, so we use hand signals to communicate with him, and we give him lots of hugs and kisses. I took some pics and sent them to our daughter and son who live in TN. and CO. Then I saw an IG post from my daughter that went straight to my heart. She wrote about living far away from ‘her dog’ and missing him so much. I’m going to share it, then I’m going to add a poem written from Copper’s POV. So, this post is a combination of tears and smiles. I hope you enjoy, and maybe you’ll relate too.
From my daughter:
“It’s weird having a dog or any pet be part of your life for a good amount of time but then you move away. Across the country. And rarely see them anymore. And when you do visit once or twice a year, you’re so excited to see them because you know them, but you wonder if they remember or recognize you. And they look older because you’re older. When we first adopted Copper, I was with him for 6 years and was hesitant on adopting another dog after Lucky Girl passed. And now, I’ve been away from him for that same amount of time that I was with him & it’s sad, bittersweet. He’s still got those same amber eyes you get lost in, but he’s a little grayer than he was the previous year. And you just know the inevitable. It’s weird being so far away & not “growing up” with him into adulthood. But when someone asks if I have a dog, I say yes even though it’s only through pictures my mom sends me. I love this boy so much.” ❤️ (This brought us to tears. We miss her enough, and then to read her feelings about living far from Copper just about did us in! Does this scenario sound familiar?)
And now, let’s wipe away those tears and find a smile:
What a Fun Day! (from Copper’s POV)
Thanks, Mom and Dad, for taking me to the park! I took in all the beauty without one single bark!
Oh, the smells were awesome, and the redwoods so tall! I’m pretty tall myself but I felt very small!
Lifting my leg was fun around new territory, I even inspired Mom to tell my canine story!
We walked by the creek hearing water flowing. You said it was peaceful without any wind blowing.
Then we found a table where you ate your lunch and I gulped down my food with a crunch and a munch!
Naptime followed soon when I plopped down on my bed, with every muscle relaxed I laid down my big head.
I know I’m older now; I don’t move very fast, but I’m glad we came here because I really had a blast!
A note from Copper: I hope you liked this post that my mom and I put together! Can you relate? Do you have a dog or cat that melts your heart and whose eyes see right into your soul like mine do? If you do, let my mom know in the comments. And thanks for coming by today! I hope you don’t mind a slobbery kiss from me! ❤️🐶🐾
The conversation turned heavy discussing God’s existence, then noticing the time, my husband opened the door to retrieve our dinner, Grub Hub, don’t judge, a Friday convenience! Then a moth slipped in quietly, adroitly, wearing lime green and milky white. It landed on a nearby chair, and my husband spoke, “Is it you, Mom? It’s been 33 years, and we still miss you so much.” The moth lifted from the cloth rising up into the air, gliding out the door from which it came. It was Diane. We believe. Her entrance was timely, so perhaps, a reminder. We gave tears freedom. We know they’ll revisit because the many used up calendars over the years are irrelevant. His world was shattered too soon, but the events of that day are as vivid as yesterday’s sunset. Funny, how a little moth on its own special journey lifted our spirits that evening.
Moods that can’t seem to find the light through the darkest shadows can be lifted with blooms of bright yellow like a smile sprinkling cheer into a day washed out in beige.
I finally finished the last 5-star reviews of two incredible books. I hope you enjoy!
To purchase your copy, click on Buy on Amazon.
Whenever I immerse myself in a book by Diana Peach, I always fall deeply into the exciting worlds and believable characters. She is the author who converted me years ago into reading fantasy. Her beautiful prose parallels with diving into a C. S. Lewis classic. Tale of the Seasons’ Weaver is an enchanting and spellbinding story full of remarkable imagination. I was easily drawn into the extraordinary imagery from the first chapter. One sample of Peach’s magical writing is, “The sky joined into a conspiracy with the wind and thickened with charcoal clouds that piled on each other’s back.”
Erith, the protagonist, resides between two worlds. She is half mortal human and half possessing charmed blood. Because of these qualities, she feels as if she doesn’t belong in either world. But the complication lies with her mother bestowing her the title of seasons’ weaver. Erith must weave her first tapestry ode to spring. However, self-doubt clings to her like static electricity, and she remains hesitant to use her magical powers. Not to mention, she faces a multitude of obstacles. A massive hindrance being the Winter King who takes revenge on the human race. He suppresses the season of spring because of human hunters who harmed the enchanted forest.
The reader joins Erith on her quest, meeting a variety of magical creatures, some better to avoid such as water demons in the night, while others that fascinate like galiwhigs. Many entertaining characters, both good and evil, play a significant role in her growth, and Peach even adds a touch of romance to entice.
Will Erith be able to push aside her self-doubt in order to prevent the demise of all humans? Will the four seasons remain everlasting? I encourage you to discover the answers by reading this tale that I highly recommend!
To purchase your copy, click on image.
Reading The Garden of Love by Manuela Timofte is like sitting by a waterfall, allowing its ballad to calm your mind. My initial thought after the first few pages was, I need this now. The U.S. is spinning out of control in a myriad of ways. The world is doing the same. So, reading Timofte’s book was like enjoying one spectacular exhale, releasing all stress.
In the foreword she writes, “In our real garden, we may prefer certain flowers and try to eradicate certain weeds, but the flowers and weeds inside us define us as people and the life we lead.” Her hope with this book is that “we find the flowers we like, and the lines that resonate with us, and that they give us color, fragrance, understanding, and lots of love.” I discovered the flowers, the lines, I saw the color, inhaled the fragrance, realized understanding, and felt the love.
Timofte reminds us that we are all diverse, not only physically, but also in thoughts, emotions, and experiences. And no matter what, “we are brought here on earth to learn the lessons of love…true happiness does not lie in a job, money, religion, or political placards. It was and is all the time within us.”
There is so much of what she writes that I know in mind and heart but let slip aside as I trudge through my own agenda. It takes little effort to forget about love, and that we can’t take money and possessions with us when we leave this beautiful planet. I, too, am reminded that while some of these make life more exciting and comfortable, the bottom line is to live life knowing that our stay here on earth is temporary, but to leave without regrets – a mission that can be difficult to implement. So, I encourage you to grab a copy and a cup of tea or your preferred beverage and allow yourself that one spectacular exhale as you turn the pages. Highly recommended!
I’m also sharing a poem for you to ponder when you leave here:
Your Link
The link you grasp may be small But still, you will not fall With the firmest grip, hold on tight It’s not about fight or flight Just seizing the chain is vital No one is above you or entitled Whether the link is large or small Hold your head up high; stand tall! We all matter, the bottom line Our beliefs, emotions, goals in life We all matter of equal degree This is truth…not hyperbole!
Let us gently walk on this tightrope called life, trying to keep our bodies still, our minds calm which easily slip into the grip of worry, because prying the ‘worry fingers’ away from worn-out brains nearly takes the jaws of life.
Make each step gentle to avoid tumbling into a rabbit hole of anxiety, sliding deeper into shadows that frighten, and softer steps are healthier than getting stuck in the muck of negativity that will weigh us down like an overloaded backpack.
The tightrope may fray though. It could snap with one wrong footprint.
So, our light steps are obligated to keep us balanced.
Our gentle steps will steady the wind in our wings.
Baydreamer Writes ~ Lauren Scott, Author & Poet 