My family of eleven traveled to Oklahoma for our Christmas trip. Everything was just right, all of us together, the cousins playing, gathering around the fire pit. In Oklahoma they have rocks. One day we went to a place where the kids could mine for rocks. Cheesy, yes. So was the shesquatch who brought donuts. But it was all part of the attitude of vacation.
I took this rock from the yard of the house we stayed in. I placed in on my kitchen table with a butterfly clip that was on a Christmas gift. I want to remind myself when things get busy again that there is time for stillness.
Please join me on this first day of 2025 and commit to stillness in which writing may come.
Like hearth is to home
Your love is my solid rock
Keeping me steady
Margaret Simon, draft
Reflections on the Teche 
On this New Years Day, your photo sent me this message. The poem needs some re-working but here’s the draft. I pray for all of those near and far who are in need of help and hope. I pray for us all.
Life
Janet Clare F., draft
Moments flutter into years,
connected by threads of hope
strength
courage
prayer,
and the steadfastness of love.
Rock solid navigation
lights the way
on this journey we call life,
fragile
brief
eternal,
taking us home.
Butterflies and stone,
teachers, guides.
Janet, I need your poem on this first day of the new year. Life, indeed is like this. I especially like “fragile / brief / eternal”
Janet, a beautiful combination of ideas inspired by a single rock.
“years connected by threads of hope” – a beautiful image, Janet.
Love the thought of butterfly movement and the stillness of the rock. It takes me into the garden with the solid ground below me and the movement of plants and wind above. Thanks for this image today! Happy New Years!
You gave me an idea that once spring comes I can transfer the rock to my butterfly garden.
Margaret, I love that you gather with your family on Christmas to have some close time. Your post reminds me of the day I took a walk with my older daughter along the Tennessee River and picked up a rock to bring home to put by my desk and pray for her several times throughout the day when she was going through a rough time. Rocks have such a powerful force and are wonderful reminders of moments we spend in the places we spend time. I love your post and the haiku.
Margaret,
I love rocks. I have a collection and they are around my house. On display. Your poem about the metaphor of strength and love when it is rock solid, its home and I love that you brought that very interesting rock home with you. In college my professor had a very large (and I am sure heavy) mosaic above her desk. It was painted plywood type wood and all these stones she had collected and saved on her many travels. So in each section she could identify where the rocks came from. I have always thought this should be something I should remember to do. So that said, I never did it for making a collage but it’s still an interesting idea. I imagine if you had a box you could store (ie under your bed if a kid) and have baggies labeled, perhaps eventually you would have enough stones to make some design….not even large but a mosaic or shape or freeform…..anyhow, your prompt today made me think about that long ago time, too.
I was especially attracted to it because we don’t have rocks around here. I have a small collection in my classroom.
This rock will remind me of the good time we had in Oklahoma. Rocks do have a force.
Margaret, thank you for this image, which is very comforting to me. Did I tell you both of my daughters got butterfly tattoos after Phoebe’s death. Her nursery was decorated with butterflies.
I love your haiku and the vagueness of the “you” — hopefully all can enjoy the steadiness. I used some of Janet’s words in my poem.
Leaning on the rock
Sure and steady, though fragile.
Brief, yet eternal
The butterfly is a wonderful symbol. Thanks for sharing the tattoo story. I love how you balance your poem with opposites, brief yet eternal, as your love for Phoebe.
Lovely, Denise. I especially love “brief, yet eternal.”
three shells on my desk
in a glance they take me back
October memories
Mary Lee, what a sweet memory Margaret’s photo conjured for you. It makes me want to hear more about the three shells.
Margaret, thank you for continuing to host TPhWTBAPoem!
Decades ago, I broke the rules/law by bringing home a small boulder/big rock from Glacier National Park. Its heft reminds me of constancy, while the scratches of the glacier it bears reminds me of transience. I’m not sorry to be its hostess for now. Someday I’ll put it out in the garden and archaeologists in the future will wonder how a glacial rock got all the way to Ohio!
This story has me intrigued – how you managed to sneak it home and how it reminds you of constancy and transience and the same time. Love it!
I don’t think I broke any rules since the backyard of our house was full of them. I’m glad you found your way here today. It’s a kind of quiet day for fireside writing.
What a wonderful time with family and so love how you brought a rock of remembrance with you.
Thank you, Margaret. Your still life and poem (and Tara’s message today in Storystorm) reminded me of the importance of making time to let my mind be quiet and still.
I dream of words
entering my heart and mind
in stillness
Thanks for connecting and writing. Happy new year!
Rose, the stillness in your poem is palpable. I love the short third line.