Of Micros and Macros

The Ragtag Daily Prompt word this morning is MACRO

This is a word I’ve had only a passing acquaintance with. As in, heard it used; had no clue. So I checked in dictionary, I see that MACRO is the big picture whereas MICRO is the small one.

The Canadian Oxford Dictionary tells me:
Macro: A series of abbreviated instructions expanded automatically when required. (An accordion deep inside in your computer?)
Macro- combining form: long, large, large scale, comprehensive
Macrocosm: the universe, the whole of all nature
Macroeconomics: the study of large scale or general economic factors
(Macro is the Federal Budget; microcosm is our family budget.)

I’ve heard of micro-poetry, so I suppose the opposite is macro-poetry? As in, the macro-poem being the old familiar one by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and the micro-poem being my senryu version. What do you think?

THE DAY IS DONE

The day is done, and the darkness
Falls from the wings of Night,
As a feather is wafted downward
From an eagle in his flight.

I see the lights of the village
Gleam through the rain and the mist,
And a feeling of sadness comes o’er me,
That my soul cannot resist:

A feeling of sadness and longing,
That is not akin to pain,
And resembles sorrow only
As the mist resembles the rain.

Come, read to me some poem,
Some simple and heartfelt lay,
That shall soothe this restless feeling,
And banish the thoughts of day.

Not from the grand old masters,
Not from the bards sublime,
Whose distant footsteps echo
Through the corridors of Time.

For, like strains of martial music,
Their mighty thoughts suggest
Life’s endless toil and endeavor,
And tonight I long for rest.

Read from some humbler poet,
Whose songs gushed from his heart,
As showers from the clouds of summer,
Or tears from the eyelids start;

Who, through long days of labor,
And nights devoid of ease,
Still heard in his soul the music
Of wonderful melodies.

Such songs have power to quiet
The restless pulse of care,
And come like the benediction
That follows after prayer.

Then read from the treasured volume
The poem of thy choice,
And lend to the rhyme of the poet
The beauty of thy voice.

And the night shall be filled with music,
And the cares that infest the day
Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away.

Flourish.plainer

senryu version:

soft patter of words
the poet’s pen and your voice
night’s harmony

Polynesian Dreams

The Ragtag Daily Prompt this morning is SOUTH SEAS. And looking outside at a white landscape today could well induce dreams of southern climes.

palms-3242342_640
maximus 1954  —  Pixabay

Here’s my response to the prompt:

Polynesian Dreams

Southern seas tantalize,
bathers frolic on sunlit beaches,
palms beckon from posters,
exotic birds and blooms entice.

My poor nose almost frozen
to the glass, my dreams drifting,
snow sifting under my collar
makes me shiver. Still

flamingos-1271405_640
Jondolar Schnurr  —  Pixabay

I linger a moment longer
in this January bluster
at the travel agency window
for one last tropical dream.

C.G.

 

Rich & Famous

The Ragtag Daily Prompt this morning is HOPE, so I searched my DropBox files, hoping for some suitable response. I came across this writing and thought it very suitable.

Sadly, I can’t tell you who wrote it. I’ve googled it, but nothing shows up, so it may have come from an old Friendship Book. Note to self: ALWAYS attach name &/or source to EVERY writing copied from somewhere.

I hope this gives you a smile:

The Evolution of Rich & Famous

When I was thirteen I dreamed of someday being rich and famous.

When I was twenty-one my main goal in life was to someday be rich and famous.

When I was thirty I clung to the dream of someday being rich and famous.

When I was forty I still half-ways hoped to someday be rich and famous.

When I was fifty I was disillusioned with the whole idea of being rich and famous.

When I was sixty, having seen what riches and honour did to the lives of others, I was thankful that I’d never become rich and famous.

When I was seventy I finally understood just how rich I’ve been all these years. I realized that family and friends who really care about me are worth a lot more than fame.

Now that I’m eighty I realize how blessed I am to still be moving around.

Here’s another thought on the subject:

Sand.JCarrey quote
Background sand:  Nikola Belopitov — Pixabay

 

 

Looking Forward

I’ve published this verse before, but it’s one of my favorites when thinking of the New Year. this time I downloaded an image from Pixabay and did a little artwork. 🙂

Shut the door.M patel

LOOKING FORWARD

I’ve shut the door on Yesterday,
Its sorrows and mistakes;
I’ve locked within its gloomy walls
Past failures and heartaches.
And now I throw the key away
To seek another room,
And furnish it with hope and smiles,
And every springtime bloom.

No thought shall enter this abode
That has a hint of pain,
And every malice and distrust
Shall never therein reign.
I’ll shut the door on Yesterday,
And throw the key away—-
Tomorrow holds no doubt for me,
Since I have found Today.