Michele Lee Sefton's Blog, page 16

A purple parting to thee

“Come, gentle night; come, loving, black-browed night;
Give me my Romeo; and, when I shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night…”
― William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

Purple, a perfect
blend of sorrow and passion
Quintessential Juliet

Miles away from Verona, Italy, where Shakespeare penned Romeo and Juliet, I say a sweet farewell this morning to the actress who captivated me in an elementary school classroom with her 1968 portrayal of Juliet in Franco Zeffirelli’s adaption of the play, first written between 1591 and 1595. Though controversial, the 1968 release won several awards, including Acadamy Awards for Best Cinematography and Best Costume Design, and it was nominated for Best Director and Best Picture.

About twelve years after this version was released, my teacher wheeled a television into our classroom so that we could watch this play. Huddled on the floor beneath the large box of a tv, we did. I remember reading a sticker on the cart that read, “Property of the AV Department” while our teacher fiddled with the show. Years later, my own students, high school age, watched excerpts of this movie on a SmartScreen, pulled down from the ceiling, connected to my laptop, with classroom speakers streaming overhead.

Born in Buenos Aires in 1951, Olivia Hussey was only sixteen when she starred opposite Leonard Whiting in the movie. She passed away yesterday (December 27th) in her LA home, “surrounded by her loved ones” at the age of 73. Source

Thank you for stopping by. Wishing you a lovely weekend. Michele

featured photo of a woman in field under starry sky by jaboo2foto / my purple-toned sunrise photos / b & w balcony scene from Romeo and Juliet (Google images)

2019-2024 myinspiredlife

“Silent night, holy night”

Silent night, Holy night!
All is calm, all is bright
Round yon virgin, mother and child
Holy infant so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace

In a small and sparsely decorated room, to the right of the pulpit in the Galway Cathedral, I spent time last spring admiring a painting by Adam Pomeroy, titled The Nativity – a “depiction of Mary and the newborn Jesus” that I am honored to share here, along with a laminated description found near the painting. Apologies for the photo reflection. The Cathedral was grand and impressive, however viewing Pomeroy’s unique and beautiful painting is what sent my heart stirring.

Lyric excerpt: “The much-loved carol ‘Silent Night’ was first performed on Christmas Eve, 1818. Originally it was sung to a simple guitar accompaniment. The carol began life as a poem, written in 1816 by Father Joseph Mohr. Two years later, his friend Franz Gruber set the poem to music and the pair first sang the carol at midnight mass on Christmas Eve. Mohr’s manuscript was lost, leading to confusion about the song’s authorship, until his handwritten version resurfaced in 1995. By then, ‘Silent Night’ had been translated into over 300 languages and was a worldwide Christmas phenomenon.” Source

Silent Night evokes strong emotions and memories for me, having played the song many times in my youth. I still enjoy playing it on my clarinet, though I am no longer part of a concert band. I’ve been enjoying Sinéad O’Connor’s version while writing this post. Feels a good note to end on. Thank you for stopping by and may your Christmas be merry and bright! Michele

my (cell) photos taken at the Galway Cathedral in Galway, Ireland

2019-2024 myinspiredlife

Unwrapped (w/audio)

The sadness that began in her core was now undulating through her body. Spreading slowly, like lava, it invaded every nerve, cell, and vein contained within her frame. She tried to outrun the feeling by filling up her day with distractions… a donation drop-off, lunch with a colleague, a cocktail with friends, late-night shopping for things she didn’t need like canned mushrooms and an overpriced magazine. She tried to negotiate with the sadness by repeating the phrase, it’s just a day, like any other day. Smiling through the sinking sensation, she tried to protect the last flicker of holiday cheer from the lava’s consumption, but it was too powerful and the flicker too weak.
 
Out of daylight and distractions, she was riding backseat to the last place she wanted to be. Without him. Home.

Her cab turned the corner then came to a stop.

“Wrong street,” she told him.

“This is the address you gave me, ma’am.”

What the hell? The balcony, bare when she left over twelve hours ago, was now decorated with colorful Christmas lights. “Oh, ok, thank you.” Fare taken care of, she grabbed her bag of unneeded things, wished the taxi driver a Merry Christmas, then, too eager to wait for the elevator, she sprinted up the stairs to her apartment.

With her free hand, now shaking, she unlocked then flung open her door; she was instantly enveloped in the fresh scent of pine, the warmth of a crackling fire, and the aromas of rosemary and sage. What the hell?

The hell was him. She began laughing through tears at the sight of him standing over a steaming pot, wearing a Santa hat.

“What time did you get here? How did you manage to get another flight? Where did you get a tree this late on Christmas Eve? Why did you make me suffer all day, not responding to my text? Did you tell my friends you were coming? They were acting a little strange. I thought… “

He took her bag with his left hand then pressed his right pointer finger across her lips. “Breathe,” he whispered to her. He answered her questions with a kiss that made her forget everything, including her own name.

“I thought we could decorate the tree together, after we eat,” he said. She nodded. She would agree to dance across snow-covered rooftops with him if that were his suggestion.

They toasted with sparkling bubbles, ate, laughed, shared stories, paused to watch the falling white, and commented on the peaceful quiet.

“Let’s save dessert for after tree-trimming,” he suggested.

“Yes, let’s,” she responded with a smile and a glimmer in her eye.

Grabbing her waist, he lifted her toward the top of the tree, holding her while she secured the gold star to the crooked top branch. “That will do,” she decided.

“Yes, that will do,” he agreed through a laugh, “We do have other things to attend to,” he said as he slid her down, slowly pressed close to him.

……………………

Stretched out on a comfy blanket under the tree and under his gaze, she watched the flicker of lights in his eyes and felt his soft fingertip tracing her bare skin. A god of his own universe, he was connecting the twinkling reflections, that along her body became a breathtaking constellation.

She had never felt so at home in her home and Christmas had never felt so magical.

flash fiction piece first published in December of 2022

Thank you for stopping by! Sunlight just broke in the Sonoran Desert, and it is a glorious morning, with Christmas Eve just getting going. It’s been a slow start for me to get into the Christmas spirit, but now, with pumpkin muffins fresh out of the oven and pink clouds decorating the skies, I am fully swimming in it. Cheers to the beauty and wonder of the season! Michele

featured photo of taxi in NYC by Right Perspective Images / my photos of a public holiday display (Christmas tree and Edison lights & candy decoration)

2019-2024 myinspiredlife

Solstice Sunrise

Gathered to witness
the stillness within,
when mountains are crowned,
unbound by fire’s spin.

Released of the past,
toward the east, souls gaze–
the weary renewed,
hearts moved, set ablaze.

Thank you for visiting! A chilly morning in the Sonoran Desert, the solstice sunrise was spectacular, invigorating the senses and inviting introspection and reflection. Best wishes to you. Michele

My poem follows the structure of a Lethrannaegecht Mor; an Irish poetic form with the following guidelines:

Quatrain (or four-line) poem (or stanzas)Rhyme scheme: abcbFive syllables per lineAssonance (or repetition of vowel sounds) in the first two lines of each stanzaThe end word of the third line rhymes with a word in the middle of the fourth line (and if it doesn’t, then the “a” and “c” words should consonate with the “b” words)

my sunrise photos: Saturday morning sun just above mountain, woman watching sunrise, shrubbery in the golden glow, and a bird in flight (an Osprey, I believe)

2019-2024 myinspiredlife

Santa sighting

Dear Santa,

I hope you and your trusty team of nine are well rested for your long journey ahead and that your sleigh has been properly inspected. I hope your happy helpers, dressed in green and red, have upgraded your seat warmer and added the latest flight technology to your vintage sled, so that your worldwide deliveries are safe and swift. I also hope that I am not too late with my Christmas wish. When you travel through the Pacific Northwest, should you be so kind to hover over a bundle of carefully chosen bulbs, shipped from afar and planted with abundant love and a mother’s touch, now nestled in rich dirt. I sense them stirring and taking root, though a little extra Christmas magic, can’t hurt.

Thank you with all my heart, a most grateful mom

Thank you for stopping by! Wishing you a wonderful holiday weekend and may it never be too late for your dreams to take root. Warm regards. Michele

my three photos taken in the Netherlands: small Santa statue surrounded by flowers / ‘Carnaval de Rio’ (Triumph Tulips) / Barbados Tulips

2019-2024 myinspiredlife

We can do hard things! (w/video)

“You wanna fly, you got to give up the shit that weighs you down.”
― Toni Morrison, Song of Solomon

Sunday afternoon, I had the honor of dancing at a launch for the book, Swimming with Alligators: How to Recognize Narcissistic Abuse, Break Unhealthy Bonds, and Unlock True Empowerment by Cheryl L. Wright, author, speaker, empowerment coach, and fellow dancer. When asked to participate a few weeks ago, I responded with an enthusiastic “yes” and a follow-up question about a song theme. “Empowerment” was the response. A theme and desired way of being that I am happy to engage with. I chose the song, Genesis by Ruelle and incorporated affirming quote boards into my routine. For those new here (welcome) – I began pole dancing last year and this clip is the first public share of my most recent dancing endeavor. In addition to highlighting Cheryl’s book (so proud of her!), I hope my share offers inspiration and motivation. Thank you for stopping by! Be well. [image error] Michele

P.S. To read book reviews and see a clear image of back cover, please click book link (title or image). Following an in-person meeting this morning, writing workshop work will be a wrap for 2024.

featured photo of woman leaping with laptop by Master1305 / my photos of the book: Swimming with Alligators: How to Recognize Narcissistic Abuse, Break Unhealthy Bonds, and Unlock True Empowerment by Cheryl L. Wright

2019-2024 myinspiredlife

Reliable ride

GPS can be helpful when it comes to telling me turn right or left, but for going the distance my internal guiding system is best.

Thank you for visiting! Just dropping in for a little Monday motivation. Life can be stressful, even overwhelming at times and not all directions can be trusted, but the ride can be smoother and more enjoyable when our tank is full, preferably with a premium grade, made of our own personal blend. Dance breaks help, too! Best to you in all that you do! Michele

featured photo by f y b / my (passenger) photo of two women dancing near the Sea of Cortez

2019-2024 myinspiredlife

GALDR Spotlight (w/audio)

from GALDR – thought & memory
by Michael Raven

this is the sea

unmoored and adrift
i reach out for two hands
to plunge me into icy waters
delve into my felon chest
to draw the poison of
forever years from my soul
black burnt pitch thick
with coagulated blood pudding

draw out the fetid fantasies
draw out the traitorous dreams
tear out the scarred soul meat
and
            and
                        kill off the pale, sick-filled me

this dying is necessary
            the vessel, cleared and
                        the soul filled with the
            the ever-moving sea

horizons draw eyes
            for this is the sea


good night, though

in the shadowlands
and their loathsome lonely
I talk to ghosts who
with nothing much to say
they nod and murmur
grow distant, fade
away away away
their talk, idle stuff
small talk soliloquy
lacking depth, substance
phantom words from
phantom mouths
and, like the ash in the plains
weightless, choking
and tastelessly crisp
lost paper dolls
at the forever party
doldrums

I’ve enjoyed spending time with Michael Raven’s earthy thought-provoking poetry collection, including the overall presentation of the illustrated book, published by Raw Earth Ink in 2022. Available through Amazon and Lulu. Categorized as Norse & Icelandic and Inspirational & Religious Poetry, the poems showcase “nature, the heart, shamanic roots, and clever wordplay… ” book description

An excerpt from Michael’s bio:

While poetry is Michael’s primary form of writing, he has also written short fiction, a few unpublished novels, technical papers and essays, and has been the primary lyricist for bands of many different genres he has played with: folk, rock, electronic pop, 80s alternative, and old-school goth, to name a few. Read more.

Poem note: I did my best to maintain the structure of the poems and when typing I caught an error in my audio. The lines: the soul filled with the / the ever-moving sea presents two “thes.” I read as only one. Apologies.

Review comment: My poetry/book spotlights are not reviews in the traditional sense. There are several writers in this WP space who do a fine job with that. Nor do I want to put on my English teacher hat and begin analyzing and comparing and contrasting. Though I might, if you ask. My spotlight shares are more of an opportunity to showcase and support other independent artists and create more art, inspired by their original work. It is an honor to do so, and I hope to highlight at least one more writer before 2024 is over. Thank you for reading! Michele

my beach photo taken in Newport, Oregon / three seated ladies by LightField Studios

2019-present myinspiredlife

Sunday morning moon

Early morning moon
Lingering to kiss the sun
Dawn stirs blue whispers

Morning playlist: Beethoven – Moonlight Sonata / Johann Debussy – Clair de Lune / Miloš Karadaglić – Einaudi: Full Moon

Thank you for visiting. I sat down to finish working on a poet spotlight post when the glow of the morning moon, through my window did softly show, pulling me into the early morning light. An enchanting glow made more captivating, with the silhouette of birds taking flight. With the poetry of another, I shall return, after wrapping myself in the quiet messages of a blue twilight.

2019-present myinspiredlife

How dare she

Her tiny house was built on big dreams
a strong foundation with secured seams
nestled near the junction of brisk streams
where peace and wild are found in extremes
renewing her soul to life’s potential
courage essential for uncommon themes

Thank you for visiting and wishing you a wonderful weekend! Michele

My poem follows the form of a Gwawdodyn Hir, a Welsh six-line poem that follows this structure:

• Sestet (or six-line stanza) form
• Nine syllables in the first four lines
• Ten syllables in the final two lines
• Lines one, two, three, four, and six end rhyme
• The end of line five rhymes with a syllable in line six

featured photo of a woman hugging her dog while resting on terrace of tiny house in the mountains during winter time by RossHelen / my photo of dog on a roof taken in Puerto Peñasco, Mexico

2019-present myinspiredlife