Poetry

Poetry – Day 22

/ still a dreamer / 5 Comments

National Poetry Month continues, and this poem honors Rainer Maria Rilke.

Photo: Vincent Delsuc/Pexels

INITIATION

Whoever you are, go out into the evening,
leaving your room, of which you know each bit;
your house is the last before the infinite,
whoever you are.
Then with your eyes that wearily
scarce lift themselves from the worn-out door-stone
slowly you raise a shadowy black tree
and fix it on the sky: slender, alone.
And you have made the world (and it shall grow
and ripen as a word, unspoken, still).
When you have grasped its meaning with your will,
then tenderly your eyes will let it go …

~ Rainer Maria Rilke, 1906

Poetry – Day 12

/ still a dreamer / Leave a comment

April is National Poetry Month; the second poem posted. I am so moved by the way some people are able to share their feelings through words so simply, yet words which linger so intently in my heart, as if I had invited them in to stay.

I Am Offering This Poem

I am offering this poem to you,
since I have nothing else to give.
Keep it like a warm coat
when winter comes to cover you,
or like a pair of thick socks
the cold cannot bite through,

                         I love you,

I have nothing else to give you,
so it is a pot full of yellow corn
to warm your belly in winter,
it is a scarf for your head, to wear
over your hair, to tie up around your face,

                         I love you,

Keep it, treasure this as you would
if you were lost, needing direction,
in the wilderness life becomes when mature;
and in the corner of your drawer,
tucked away like a cabin or hogan
in dense trees, come knocking,
and I will answer, give you directions,
and let you warm yourself by this fire,
rest by this fire, and make you feel safe

                         I love you,

It’s all I have to give,
and all anyone needs to live,
and to go on living inside,
when the world outside
no longer cares if you live or die;
remember,

                           I love you.

–Jimmy Santiago Baca

Please read about this poet, Jimmy Santiago Baca, to learn about his background and the life that inspired his writing.

Photo by Order Luck/Pexels – @outxforder

Poetry – Day 6

/ still a dreamer / Leave a comment

April is National Poetry Month. During the month, I will occasionally share poetry that speaks to me, hopefully, to you, too.

What Kind of Times Are These

There’s a place between two stands of trees where the grass grows uphill
and the old revolutionary road breaks off into shadows
near a meeting-house abandoned by the persecuted
who disappeared into those shadows.

I’ve walked there picking mushrooms at the edge of dread, but don’t be fooled
this isn’t a Russian poem, this is not somewhere else but here,
our country moving closer to its own truth and dread,
its own ways of making people disappear.

I won’t tell you where the place is, the dark mesh of the woods
meeting the unmarked strip of light—
ghost-ridden crossroads, leafmold paradise:
I know already who wants to buy it, sell it, make it disappear.

And I won’t tell you where it is, so why do I tell you
anything? Because you still listen, because in times like these
to have you listen at all, it’s necessary
to talk about trees.

– Adrienne Rich, 1991

Photo by Jen Theodore/Unsplash

The Symbol of the Butterfly

/ still a dreamer / 5 Comments

What is the meaning of a butterfly? Often, the butterfly symbolizes change, due to its dramatic transformation from a caterpillar to a magnificent winged creature. In Japanese, Burmese, and many other cultures the butterfly is seen as a symbol for the soul.

Was symbolism intended when I wrote my picture book, Where Do Butterflies Go at Night?

If you had asked me when I first wrote it in 2009, I would have said `no’, but I now question if I didn’t have more in mind than even I knew. I submitted “Butterflies” to agents and traditional publishers for many years. Although I often got positive feedback, it was ultimate;y rejected because it was in rhyme, and rhyme is hard to sell.

A small, independent publisher saw the beauty in my story of the magical imaginings of a child who wondered where the butterflies went at night. It was published with the lovely art of Stella Maris Mongodi, who brought the sweet simplicity of the cabbage white butterfly to life in a whole new and charming way.

When the original publisher closed its doors, I self-published this, my debut picture book, now identifying it as “2nd Edition.” In 2025, it won a first place award in the poetry category from a prestigious reviewer of children’s books. And in my most recent picture book school presentation, I decided to do something a little differently.

In emphasizing the concept of change from caterpillar to butterfly, I talked with 1st and 2nd graders about the importance of embracing change; being brave in the face of change; and understanding that all change is ultimately working in our favor. One might think little ones wouldn’t get that, but they did. Sometimes wiser than we adults, they did.

And so, the butterfly has become a symbol of transformation for me, as well. I’ve gone through many changes with these butterflies and their story. They continue to light my path, and I am still unfolding.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Where Do Butterflies Go at Night, 2nd Edition is available on Amazon and in also my Etsy shop, if you would like your copy signed.

Photo credits:
BW butterfly: pexels/6th Era Photography; @stories_by_sixthera
Blue butterfly: pexels/aarngiri; @aarn_giri
Cabbage white butterfly: pexels/mali maeder
Butterfly illustration: Stella Maris Mongodi

Recognition

/ still a dreamer / 2 Comments

Recognition is important. We all need a pat on the back here and there, or just an acknowledgment of our efforts, if not a final accomplishment. It’s what fuels our moving forward, or simply trying again.

When we work so hard at something, it’s nice to have someone say so. In this case, I recently received the awards package from Northern Lights Book Awards for my picture book, Where Do Butterflies Go at Night? 2nd Edition. It includes these beautiful gold seals to affix to books, and a certificate. They made the recognition tangible.

This acknowledgment may not mean much to you unless you know me personally, and how long I’ve been involved in children’s books. Years. Decades. Intense periods and fallow periods. It takes a long time to see your work in print, whether traditionally published, as this book initially was, or self-published, and all the work I put into that.

What seems like a lifetime ago, in 2011, I received an award from the Dog Writers Association of America in the Painting/Art Category for this Frenchie drawing. It was submitted by someone I knew who hadn’t told me they’d done so. The announcement was a complete surprise. A very lovely one. I consider myself lucky to have received both these awards.

But the reality is that we don’t always get external acknowledgments like these, no matter how long or often we’ve been trying.

And the reality also is that you have actually accomplished a lot that’s worthy of recognition. It could be any number of things – pushing through disappointments of all kinds and coming out on the other side; surviving a break-up; losing a loved one; finishing a project; accomplishing a goal; keeping quiet when you really wanted to blow-up; accepting change.

It really can be anything. Sometimes just getting out of bed in the morning can be an accomplishment.

Take a moment and give yourself a pat on the back. Stand a little taller. In some way that I, and most people, can’t see and may never know, you have still done good. Congratulations. Keep going. You’re doing better than you think.