MARCH, a Mercurial Month

March is here with its mercurial spirit, continually changing from bitter storms to golden, sunny days. It's a month of transition for nature, from lion-like roaring to lamb-like gentleness. I march through March, a month of memories, a time to celebrate my husband's life, and honor his passing. The following poems come from my heart as I near the upcoming Year Two. 

  SUPPOSE-Then and Now  

we weaved through life 

like gentle lambs, calmer, calmer

moving through stormy weather

suppose we stretched across the sky

like billowing clouds of beauty, slowly, slowly

floating to nature's rhythm

   suppose we meet in evening dreams

like fairies whispering, circling, circling

into a magical web of forever  

(c) CVarsalona, March 2026 - based on Wendell Berry's poem, Like Snow

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Thank you to Jone MacCulloch

for her Wendell Berry-like poem

Suppose we did our work

like winter, renewing and replenishing

Readying ourselves for spring

© Jone Rush MacCulloch, 2026

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I offer my work to two writing communities

that I belong to: 

Poetry Friday

Linda Baie is hosting the Poetry Friday Roundup today at her blog site, TeacherDance. She offers us a few Friday the 13th superstition stories and a beautiful picture of the sky with an original poem about nature and loved ones.

 

Day 13, March 2026

 12th year with Two Writing Teachers

Cherish the Now!

As I read through other writers' posts, I often choose a line or two that makes me pause. Cherish each fleeting now was written by slicer/poet, Molly Hogan. Her thought made me connect to the past and back to the present. If only I knew that my husband's time would be unexpectedly shortened, I might have cherished ordinary days with more intent. The if-onlys in my life still pop-up but I know that I cannot rewrite our history. What I need to learn is how to stop obsessing on what I can't keep up with. I also need to put my energy into what I can do in small amounts each day. I found the following poem by Wendell Berry several times during last week. It made me take a mindful pause. 

Peace of Wild Things

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

The above poem allows me "For a time, to rest in the grace of the world". With this thought, I decided to create a Golden Shovel poem from my heart to my husband's resting place.

The family journeyed along the coast for

nine days ready to celebrate a  

life no longer existing in real time.

My husband  journeyed also. I

honored his love and felt his spirit rest.

The sun opened our hearts in 

layers of clouds and the 

blessings of God's grace 

recycled in a pool of 

ocean waves surrounding the

memories of our world.

I shall cherish each fleeting now!

draft 2025 @CVarsalona

This is my Slice of My Life that will be placed at Two Writing Teachers, 

a meeting place for a world of reflective writers.