Tag: poem

Morning Thought: The Game of Life [Day 9/365]

Happy Autumnal Equinox — one of two days a year when the night and day are equal lengths. If you have a chance to get outside, I would go for it. It’s a beautiful day.

Day 9’s contribution is posting a day late because yesterday was a writing day that I didn’t want to cut short. So you’ll get two posts today as I catch up.

This time delay brings you another Morning Thought from this morning. It may be a bit cumbersome to read on your first try because it is best read with a slight Shakespearean stage lilt.

But I liked it, so I pass it on to you … on top of that weird background from a few days ago that I’m still trying to figure out how I feel about.

Do you find it weirdly likeable, like I do, or does it drive you crazy? I’d be curious to know.

In the meantime, may the Game of Life treat you well and may we always remember how to “fun”. 😂

The Game of Life, by Sheralyn Pratt All the world's a stage we come from and wide to play on; the challenge: To see if we still know how to play by the time we're done, or if we get lost in life's maze and forget how to "fun".

Dream Beaches

By: Sheralyn Pratt

In nature,
hundreds of thousands of sea turtles
lay millions of eggs each year
in prime beach sand.
90% of their eggs will hatch.
but only 1% will survive
and thrive in maturity.

I’ve found that dreams
can be much the same
— mesmerizing
as they emerge in tiny perfection
before sand-crawling their way
to the great sea of possibilities
where predators lurk,
challenges never flinch,
and competition doesn’t blink or share.

It’s no wonder we often hold
our dream hatchlings close
when they first emerge from their nest.
It’s a rough world out there
and so few dreams survive.
It makes sense to want
to play Peter Pan
and hold on to every tiny possibility
like a child…
but the truth is
we must let dreams go
— let them crawl the beach
and swim —
and know that those that brave
the sea of life will evolve
and bring new life again.

One Sheep

One of my favorite poems by my grandma is “One Sheep.”

In truth, I have many “favorite” poems by my grandma. I was around 20 when I first read it online. The internet was just becoming a thing and my uncle posted all my grandma’s published work on his website.

I was manning a receptionist desk when I discovered “One Sheep” — reading it again and again while marveling how well she captured a sentiment I think nearly everyone can relate to.

Below is a scan of the poem, as originally published, followed by a recording of me reading it.

I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

One Sheep God, I don't know how to start or what to say. I do not know the language of a formal prayer so long it's been since my heart felt the urge to pray, so long I've made believe no need to pray was there. But, God, somehow I don't believe You are the kind to hold a grudge for what I have or haven't done, and if I just start praying I know You won't mind or worry much about the way my prayer's begun. It's over. I've been wrong and I'm not going to make a lot of fancy promises that may not last, a lot of crazy vows I'm weak enough to break. You see, I have discovered mem'ries can be short, and even tho right now my feet are on the ground, it's hard to keep them there, so much comes to distort my sense of values and to twist my views around. I don't know yet if I can find the way to You, I am afraid I'm apt to falter now and then, but I will do the most that anyone can do, if You'll have patience, honest, God, I'll try! Amen. Verse by: Kathryn Kay

One Sheep. All rights Reserved. Copyright 1941, 1997, 2019.

Disempowerment 101

The 2016 election caused a bit of a social kerfuffle in the US.

Uncounted conversations with friends in the aftermath led me to this write this poem:

DISEMPOWERMENT 101

by: Sheralyn Pratt

It is old wisdom
that the way to weaken a people
is to get them to think
outside their sphere of influence.
If it’s beyond their horizon,
it is but a play on a stage.
Spectators can watch
but they hold no true sway.
They can only cheer
or speak outrage
to claims and hearsay
—hands tied,
thoughts bound
to a place far away—
until those far-away thoughts
disrupt their own day-to-day.
This is no accident.
It is all a design
to train the masses
to have impotent minds.
For unempowered souls are easily led
and when the 99 feel helpless…
well, you know what comes next.
The good news is
returning to power
is a flip of a switch.
Every animal does it—
it’s that easy to fix:
Tend to your sphere
and all you can touch.
See to its care
and make it top-notch.
Then, perhaps, if a call
leads you to go far-and-wide,
you can go,
you can give,
and improve what you find.

Here the poem is as a shareable image:

It is old wisdom that the way to weaken a people is to get them to think outside their sphere of influence. If it’s beyond their horizon, it is but a play on a stage. Spectators can watch but they hold no true sway. They can only cheer or speak outrage to claims and hearsay —hands tied, thoughts bound to a place far away— until those far-away thoughts disrupt their own day-to-day. This is no accident. It is all a design to train the masses to have impotent minds. For unempowered souls are easily led and when the 99 feel helpless… well, you know what comes next. The good news is returning to power is a flip of a switch. Every animal does it— it’s that easy to fix: Tend to your sphere and all you can touch. See to its care and make it top-notch. Then, perhaps, if a call leads you to go far-and-wide, you can go, you can give, and improve what you find.

Disempowerment 101: Copyright, Sheralyn Pratt 2019