The Just Men

The moon continues, so still.

Even during those fires in the air,

the recently passed hungry, deep conflagrations,

her beams rose and fell 

with the days and the nights.

And in all gardens,

once meek plants and roses

grow where thorns have congregated,

and where honey bees still sing.

And beyond the rivers, cliffs, and tombs,

awakened bones stand tall,

and all just men

walk in mild humility

where lions once roamed.

They meet the beasts at the den,

where once a vale of death was certain.

And, there will be no false starts this time.

©Imbler, 2020

 A big thank you to ILA Magazine for publishing my poem this month.

AT THE VERY EDGE OF COURAGE

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Develop the daring of a lion
and the intrepidity of an adventurer.
Create a reservoir of mettle and pluck.
Increase fortitude as you preserve
through the murkiest dark along
any highway of people.


For who else should you depend on when things collapse?
How will you record your own history,
even as you walk into the present,
still unknown at that moment?
 

Run or be run over?
We must speak of the third option:
stand strong and carry as much as you can,
and lay out your energies for others' sake.


Do all this while attaining your own ideal,
for the worst of humanity does not understand
that one must make a difference in a good way,
and the best are too busy loving others to judge.

 Publication Updates:

"The Fairy and the Frog" is in the illustration process.  Six year old Caroline will work at her pace to get the drawings done, and that works for me!

Spica's Frequency is being put together.  I am deciding on the order for the poems, and continuing to work on my illustrations for the second part of this newest poetry collection.  An early winter release is the goal.

Thank you, Herojit Philem!

Ambrosial Literary Garland | Vol. I | Issue 9 | April 2021

All Roads Lead To Your Enlightenment Linda Imbler

On each road, even the less travelled, intersecting paths exist,
meeting your trail from the left or the right. At these intersections, you might face others 

who can help you gather your thoughts, show you respectable new ways

to roll these new understandings into a cohesive whole. Passersby who may help you develop
more positive thoughts,
experience new reactions.

These roads offer a form of time travel,
to remind you of past success,
complete your awareness of the be-here-now present,
and offer recognizable hope for the future.
Paths, focused in their intent,
that bring clear messages you can carry with you on your journey.

Aberrations, Impersonators, and You, The Circumnavigator

An aberrant, bizarre day,

laid out in an odd, uncanny way.

In the morning,

robbed by menacing thugs,

those mad, elemental wrongdoers

who always proposed thunder.

Their violent appearance

should never have escaped your notice.

In the afternoon, 

you caught the attention of a kind, cooing impersonator,

ploughing across a clay path

while insisting on clean feet.

In the future, 

use your beforehand knowledge

to avoid joining those choosing to misunderstand,

and by yourself, judge how well the days burn. 

Look inside, seek divine behavior.

Loosen the temporary holding switch

at the train yard’s edge,

controlling the momentary convergence of bright spots,

then follow a shiny spread of…..

pursue the bright snapshot of……

the detailed oscillation of your one lonely thought.

Hold that thought,

and you’ll actually stumble over belongings lost,

including that strange thing,

stored in the opposite cabinet of your psyche,

and you’ll be more thankful than you have ever been.

The Seven Sleepers

(A Magic 9 Poem)

The seven sleepers hid within caves

to escape religious persecution.

A young septet laid in quiet graves,

heed this history born in Syria.

Set deep in the grotto to be saved,

they emerged three hundred years later.

Those pubescent well-planned panicked knaves,

they had found the ultimate solution,

although it was a very close shave.

 

One from the trio of Triolets:

Just Come Back

Not plates nor tools nor art from walls

Would I choose to remember you.

Please just come back and keep it all,

Not plates nor tools nor art from walls.

Your Will on which your name is scrawled,

Someone remove it from my view.

Not plates nor tools nor art from walls

Would I choose to remember you.