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I strive to be grateful for all 

that has survived, content to listen

to the sound of heaven releasing

as the first fall rain turns drought-drained 

dying grasses slightly red;

quickly now, another change

occurs, and a long held beige

begins to green.

__

(C) Gudrun Mouw

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January 6, 2022

 
 
Walking towards winter sun, facing
the old growth, oak forest,
I meditate; a memory arises
 
of that man in a shirt with the name
of a place the Gestapo had decided
to send my grandfather so long ago.
 
Shocked that this fresh new year should display
such a shirt once more, along with violence and hate.
My shoes are soaked with tears
glistening in the grass.
 
 
(c) Gudrun Mouw



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I am grateful for the vote!

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Sanskrit Chant: A Request

Om Trayambakam Yajamahe

Sughandhim Pushtivardanam

Urvaarukamiva Bhandhanaan

Mrityormuksheeya Maamritaat

(for healing & protection; to overcome fear)

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Human Predator

He rushes through
like a cold North wind;
and at his favorite stop,

his mountain lion eyes
look to scare victims
as he intensifies the night.

Fear must not
be king. May courage
reign.

Feb. 18, 2020

Gudrun Mouw (c)

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2020

Another gilded age, another Babylon
vs. the pure-hearted walkers
who don’t look for a ride,
who carry a sign: Free the Children!

I remember 1947.
Imprisoned at 3,
family gone, no food,
no water, almost died. Then,

compassion entered.
I survived.

Jan. 1, 2020, (c) Gudrun Mouw

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