“The Therapy of Writing Words”

November Poetry Month, Day 14

Horses on a beach in Costa Rica

“The Therapy of Writing Words”

Writing can be therapeutic—
at least it is for me.
Words can dribble out
slowly, methodically, randomly;
flop down like fish
right out of water, trying their best
to ooze back into the water
and live another day; or spew forth
like a flume in the early spring
on the meandering Snake River.

Or they can just emerge cavorting
casually with the other verbs and nouns,
mixing with a few chaotic adjectives
and adverbs that sometimes need
to be herded like cattle and sheep
to go to where they need to go.

But it is the imagery, personification,
metaphors, similes, and the swirls
of just the right words in the right places,
occasionally defying suitable syntax,
that make creative writing
like poetry or any writing come alive,
seep into one’s heart and soul,
wash away the unsettling nerves,
and be delicious to the taste and appear
elegantly on the prim palette of life.

Therapy writing often does not create
that beauty; yet time and after time
of practice and dribbling and swirling words,
concepts, and deep thoughts
around the page, from this corner
to that corner to that line or another,
delicately leading them into places
where they can make a difference,
soothe a needy heart and mind, 

and calm a moaning soul.

Vibrant Red Dahlia

“Majesty of the Moment”

November Poetry Month, Day 13

Sunset, the Statute of Liberty

“Majesty of the Moment”

There are moments in our lives that are majestic—
knowing the exact moment when you know
your future wife is the one for you,
savoring a glorious sunrise or sunset,
understanding a certain gospel principle,

graduating from college, remembering
a tender moment from childhood, witnessing
the last moment with your mom or dad
as their last breath slips out; their spirit,
now free from pain, rises up and away

to a new realm above, watching
the birth of a baby, rejoicing in their first steps,
seeing the Grand Tetons or the Oregon Coast
or the Redwoods or Lincoln's Memorial
or passing by the Statute of Liberty

at sunset, and reliving so many other moments—
relishing each sight, sound, or thought to relish,
cherish, and remember over and over again.
These precious moments fill our souls
with light, wonder, peace, comfort, delight,

and a sense of knowing and understanding.
All of us have experienced this majesty
of the moment in so many different ways
and often at the poignant instant
when we need them, reminding us

that God knows us, loves us, wants us
to see His majesty, understand
our own majesty, snippets of who
and whose we are and who we can become
for we are infinite, eternal, and majestic!

Along the Oregon Coast

“There comes a time”

November 2026 Poetry Month, Day 12

White Rock, one of British Columbia's longest piers

“There comes a time”

There comes a time
in everyone’s life
when you realize
that life is turning out
differently than you expected,
sometimes so different
it’s highly unrecognizable
even in the light of day.

The idyllic life morphs,
haphazardly at times,
into challenges
and vague references
to Sisyphus and his boulder,
sometimes Huck Finn
floating the Mississippi,
or even Pip
and his lonely life
on the marshes,
with or without Estella
or Miss Havisham.

Sometimes, even the weather
symbolizes our moods
of storms, downpours,
snow blanketing the earth,
hurricanes, tidal waves—
at times the sun is shining
after one of the torrential tempests
or quiet time along a sandy beach
with lapping waves and sea birds
passing by or sunsets or nights
with stars lighting our way
along the path of life.

Perhaps, it is these times,
we relish the most—
as the storms and tumults subside,
feeling at peace for those brief moments,
knowing that’s the rest we want,
we desperately crave
along the along the way
that leads us onward and ever upward.

“Sweating the small stuff”

November 2026, Day 11

Hydrangea, Vancouver British Columbia Temple

“Sweating the small stuff”

I am good at sweating the small stuff
to the point of not even worrying
about the big stuff because the small stuff
takes up so much of my time
and energy that I never get beyond that.

My vision and thoughts are clouded
with this and that, which leads
to more this and that,
even to the point of commenting
on everyone’s driving,
except my own.

Seeing faults in others
and forgetting my own mote—
maybe more motes than I care to think about—
in my own life.

I even sweat
about whether the dishes
are done before we go to bed.

In my mind’s eye,

I know I need to look
beyond the small stuff,
seek the more elevated view.

I worry, though, about much effort
it will take and wonder
whether it is worth it.

Deep down, I know it is worth it.

So, I will try tomorrow to start anew,
after I make my bed, shave, comb my hair,
read, have a bit of breakfast,
do the laundry from the day before,
brush my teeth, 

and even polish my shoes
that got a little muddy 

when I was out picking up
the few leaves that fell
on my lawn last night.

Firecracker plant, Vancouver British Columbia Temple

“A Generosity of Colors”

November Poetry Month, Day 10

Church and cow in front of a generosity of color

“A Generosity of Colors”

Fall comes naturally
when the weather grows colder
and mornings are brisk and quiet.
There’s a generosity of color
that Fall creates to bestow a stunning

and magnificent array of beauty
to overshadow the demise of summer.
The trees and plants seem to know
their time has come to release
their leaves and blossoms

and send a message to their roots
to let them go to become
something different
than they were in the summer.
But before winter can claim its soul,

fall clamors onto the stage
with a vibrant flourish of reds,
browns, yellows, oranges, golds
and a mixture of all colors—
all a magnification perfectly aligned

with the sun as it stretches from the east
to west, easing its way during the early morning,
loitering and basking into the afternoon glow
amplifying its exquisite beauty
until it seeps, reluctantly yet resplendently,

behind the western mountains
into utter darkness while we wait expectantly
for morning when fall emerges again, flourishing
and dancing, touting its generosity of colors,
not believing its demise is imminent.

“I am at that age now”

November 2026 Poetry Month, Day 9

A field of fabulous flowers

“I am at that age now”

I am at that now when I can eat
as many eggs as I want to in any configuration;
or eat pork chops anytime I want;
or eat red licorice every minute of the day;
or eat ice cream morning, noon, and night;
or race my car down the road as fast as I can;
or read until the wee hours of the morning;
or stay in bed and never get up;
or buy whatever I want at the grocery store;
or wear whatever style of clothing;
or act out in public, deigning surprise
that I really am sane at that moment;
or do so many other things
that I used to feel that I wanted
or needed to do.

But I don’t do any of those things.

I know better. I learned the hard way
that simplicity and a modicum of self-restraint
and respect are much better than hurling
yourself pell-mell into the fray of life
without thought of any consequences.

The anecdote to all this hinges
on living life in a sensible and pragmatic way
so that trouble follows you at a distance
and never catches you unless you allow it.

I happen to not allow it most of the time—

All that has something to do
with gaining a bit of wisdom and knowledge
along the way while swimming
in the froth of life with my head
just above water and trying to dodge
the floating debris of life.

At least I hope so.

“Leaven”

November 2026 Poetry Month, Day 8

*“Leaven”

We put leaven in bread to make it rise.

Just a small amount of leaven can influence
a large loaf of bread, making it full
and pleasing to both eye and tastebuds,
enhancing what the other ingredients
cannot do by themselves.

It is this leaven, our ability to add to
and enhance our surroundings
and make us pleasing unto the Lord and others.

It is the leaven that propels us to do simple acts
of service in the lives of those around us.

Often, these simple acts turn to heroic acts
as people grow and develop and become
what they need to be, what they can become,
what they must become, today and tomorrow
because of who and whose they are.

Along the way, the leaven we share enhances
our own lives, elevating us to be able to see
beyond ourselves and to heaven above
where the spiritual leaven will let us rise
and spend eternity with Him who created us all.

*Inspired by Sister Lauralie Morales, Sunset Stake RS 2nd Counselor (Provo, Utah)