Category Archives: poetry

Do You Hear Love Singing?

Posted on by
Reply

Shh. Be still and listen.
Do you hear the voice of Love singing –
assuring you Good is Endless Everything?
Do you feel Love’s song around you,
surrounding you – good and whole and true?

The song of the Cosmos fills all space
in the eternal Now – embracing
all of Creation – the manifestation
of Love everywhere and always.

There is no separation
in Love’s creation.
We dwell in Love’s song, live within
endless life –
never divided by death or strife
or separated by time or space;
or shattered or fractured
or decaying or doomed.
We can’t feel hatred, confusion, fear, or pain,
hopeless, unwanted, unloved or shamed.
All we can feel is what Love feels.
We can’t be dishonest, greedy, or disorderly  –
all we can be is what perfect Life made us to be.
We can’t be misled or misguided by Truth’s foes
– all we can know is what Truth knows.

All that Love creates is perfect, complete, whole
– maintained and sustained by omnipotent Good.
And all the good that could, would, or should
already is and always has been.
Forever and ever and ever. Amen.

Shh. Be still and listen.
Do you hear Love singing?
We belong to Love.
-Karen Molenaar Terrell

An alpine butterfly flits among the flowers on Table Mountain. Photo by Karen Molenaar Terrell.

Ode to Black Friday

Posted on by
1

I do not like Black Friday, sir
I do not like the brrr, grrr, whirrr
I do not like to fight over socks,
I do not like to get crammed in a box
store, you will not see me at the Mall
I do not like it, no, not at all.
The crazy, scrambling, hunter’s race
doesn’t fit my ambling, gatherer’s pace
I like to feel, I like to sniff
I like to take my time and if
I take more time than Sally and Sam
it’s the way I shop, and it works for me, ma’am.
So you will not find me camped outside the store
You will not find me standing at dawn at the door
You will not find me wedged in the mall’s lot
or crammed in traffic, with wares newly-bought.
For I do not like Black Friday, friend.
Well, except online shopping maybe – they’ll send.
– Karen Molenaar Terrell

And now a shameless plug. To order any of Karen’s books, click here.

Are You Taking Me Home Now? Adventures with Dad

Wishing You a Happy Thanksgiving

Posted on by
1

cozy time of year
tea kettle whistling
and kitties curled on the couch
leaves dancing on the winds in the woods
and rain pattering on the windows
warm fire in the woodstove
smell of apples
and a pie baking in the oven
full of gratitude
for rain and dancing leaves
for kitties and warmth and pie
for family and love
and you
-Karen Molenaar Terrell

(Autumn photos by Karen Molenaar Terrell.)

Little by Little

Posted on by
Reply

“Old age” comes little by little, I think –
little surrenders of who we are
to the experts and authorities,
to convenience and comfort –
someone tells us we need to stay out
of the sun, to eat only certain foods,
to travel only at the right times
and to the right places,
and to wash our hands after every
handshake and human touch –
and we listen and obey.

And so we spend our days in “preventative”
exams – counting the pills into our trays –
hoping to increase the number of our days.
And little by little we relinquish
the small pleasures that make life
meaningful –  the joy of adventure,
noon-time lunch  with our faces turned
towards the sun,  whipped cream on
our cocoa, shaking hands  with new friends,
and listening to our own hearts to create lives
worth living.

And we lose our lives in a fear of death.
– Karen Molenaar Terrell
(Originally published January 8, 2017)

I Hear You

Posted on by
Reply

Sometimes there just aren’t words.
But I’ll try.

I hear you.
I feel the pain you’re feeling
and want to fold you into a fierce hug
and absorb the pain into my own body
and relieve you of it.

I hear you.
I feel the joy you’re feeling
and want to dance and spin with you
under the stars until we drop together
from happy exhaustion.

I hear you.
I hear your weeping.
I hear your laughter.
I hear the music of your heart.
And I want you to know
you’re not alone in any of it.

We’re all in this symphony of life
together.
– Karen Molenaar Terrell

(Originally published in September 2021.)

Karen in her twirly dress.

In the Body of Life

Posted on by
Reply

sustained
and maintained
by the body of Life –
we are nothing less
than the whole
perfection
projection
reflection
affection
of Love
held in the never-ending
connection
with all that is Good
-Karen Molenaar Terrell

Blue Cosmos by Karen Molenaar Terrell

Ode to Little Tomatoes

Posted on by
Reply

Look at them!
Perfect little round balls
of juicy sweetness –
the last harvest of the fall –
planted and watered by me
tended by honey bees –
planted in the spring
in a pot on the deck
growing in the summer sun
watered by the rains of autumn –
it took three seasons
to get them here –
me and the bees
and the sun and the rain –
connected in the magic
of these perfect red orbs.

-Karen Molenaar Terrell

Skiing in My Head

Posted on by
Reply

I wake from sleep.
It’s still dark outside.
The tip of my nose is cold
from the October breeze
coming through our window.
The cold is rejuvenating,
rather than uncomfortable.
The morning chill suddenly
brings me back to a day
of downhill skiing.
In a flash it’s all there –
the waiting in line
to get on the chair,
and then in the chair,
skis dangling over the slopes
below – the whir of the chair lift
as it brings me up for my first run –
the anticipation and thrill
as I get closer and closer
to exiting the chair and “hitting
the slopes.” And then my skis
are on packed snow.
I’m pushing off – feeling my skis
bumping over the ruts and tracks
until they find a smooth stretch
and my body remembering
how to move over ice and snow.
As I lie in bed I feel my leg
muscles contracting and flexing
as my memory takes me over moguls
and swooshing down the Daisy run.

I’m fully awake now. I’m not out of bed, yet,
but I’ve already had a day of skiing
in my head in my bed.

-Karen Molenaar Terrell

I Swim on an Autumn Breeze

Posted on by
Reply

I swim on a breeze
autumn leaves dance around me
the playful cosmos

– Karen Molenaar Terrell

Fairhaven, Bellingham, Washington. Photo by Karen Molenaar Terrell.

Stuck in the Wordle Vortex: A Poem

Posted on by
Reply

beach leach reach teach?
strain the cerebral cortex
baste haste paste taste?
I’m stuck in a wordle vortex
moose mouse goose house?
what are the missing letters?
train trail brain frail?
need to break these wordle fetters

-Karen Molenaar Terrell