Archive for the ‘Contemplation’ Category


Writing poetry since 1993 Marilyn Peretti has attended the Iowa Summer Writers’ Festival, a poetry workshop in Galway, Ireland, and other workshops, submitting poems and seeing publication in the places listed below. In the Chicago area she has been a part of  The Arbor Hill Poets, The Arlington Poetry Project, the Illinois State Poetry Society, and Upper Crust writing group.

Past poems published in: California Quarterly, Christian Science Monitor, Black Bear Review, Rockford Review, Urban Spaghetti, Seeding the Snow, The Bugle (Int’l Crane Foundation), Our Developing World’s Voices, Luke Lookout, Prairie Light Review, Parnassus Literary Journal, CURRENT of Ann Arbor, The Leaflet, (Nature Artists’ Guild of The Morton Arboretum), (Chinese translations), Talking River Review, Arts Beat magazine, by Blue Ocean Institute, 2005 anthology Beyond Katrina, the 2006 anthology on endangered species, The Dire Elegies, program of Breast Cancer Connections (Palo Alto, CA), CRAM 2, CRAM 3, CRAM 4, CRAM 6, CRAM 8, CRAM 10 ( Press; name changed 2012 to Jrnl of Modern Poetry), Journal of Modern Poetry, 2013; Kane County Chronicle’s Poetry Pages, 2008; Talking River, 2009; The Deronda Review, 2010; posted in Highland Park/Evanston busses, January, 2010; online 2013, 2016; Fox Cry Review (U.Wis), 2012; seven poems in The Ultimate Chicago Poetry Anthology, 2012; Kyoto Journal #77, 2012 (pgs 102 & 105); Tipton Poetry Review, Fall, 2014; Fukishima: Words Fly Away, 2014; Wilda Morris’ Poetry Challenge, online, 2015, 2018; New Verse News – (8 poems), 2015, 2016; Li Poetry, Chinese bi-monthly poetry journal, Winter 2016; Grey Sparrow Journal (online), 2017; Snowy Egret, Spring/Autumn 2017 (Issued in 2018).

Various prizes; and nomination for Pushcart Poetry Prize, 2010. Poetry books in the “bookstore” at To Remember, To Hope (Japan and Haiti tragedies); Lichen, poems of nature; Angel’s Wings (poems on various fungi, with her ink drawings). Crane poems (2 books) with her ink drawings and other small books available from the poet. For other credits, see





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Bear Care

With all the turmoil
in the news each morn,
I turn to a bear
who doesn’t care.

Many in Europe
now lean to the right,
North Korea may do
blah, blah, blah,
lots in DC are falling
from great heights,

but I turn to a silly bear
who doesn’t care.

Every morning
I check the zoo cam
to find my panda friend
leading his life,
trotting about
and climbing there,

I can turn to this bear
who doesn’t care.

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sweet tart orange—
tinges of this taste
embed a fragrance

the old mock orange
vines over a fence
in gentle greeting


At old house in Lombard, IL

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Because of what happened
this garden is my refuge,
this silence amongst purple coleus
trailing inquisitive vinca vines.

I hear not one opinion
uttered from the plants,
just their perky faces toward morning light,
their spines straight with innocence
and disregard for my life,

or possibly standing tall
to demonstrate graceful endurance.
Only their lives matter—being God’s
earthly ambassadors, holding
no one accountable for silliness.

Even the overgrown fern
showers delight from its crowded
nest of green fronds,
drooping, bowing to reality.

Time, I say.
Time they tell me is needed
for strides of growth. Time and rain—
rain from dark clouds pouring
into patient soil, rearing
the pointed caladium leaves of fiery red
and starlight of white impatiens’ flowers.

My Patio in August

My Patio in August

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Still Living

I will be alive
when I am dead,
did you know that?
I will not be still
like a hard stone,
but breathing
as roses do,
as robins do,
as the heart
of mountains
which change
and move,
as the mycelium
of mushrooms
under the soil,
unseen, ignored,
sprouting up
at a moment’s notice.

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Dark Moaning

And now December
After changing the clock
This deep gray sky
This dark moaning day
This cold wind and threat

From which will come
the light
From which will come
the music
From which will come
the hope

Posted December 16, 2012 by perettipoems in Contemplation, POEMS & ART COPYRIGHTED, Poetry, Spiritual

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When the Tree Comes Down

On New Year’s Day
or some day later,
reluctant to move on in time,
we clutter the room with empty boxes —

those marked with black felt-tip pens,
crooked letters scrawled to label:
“shiny bells”, “twinkle stars”,
“golden garlands”, “silvery icicles” —
hesitant to pack away the glitter

of this brief respite:
The Holy Christmas Time,
now forced to face
thin naked trees across blank skies,
gray days to come,

Posted December 13, 2011 by perettipoems in Contemplation

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Taking Merton’s Path

This moving away
from the world,
this moving inside
somewhere near
the center, to hold onto
is one way,
but avoidance,

then one day
in the clatter
of the world
God enters in,
tells me She is in
my heart — the quiet
which has been
growing there is God,

the One who takes
me by the hand
into the tumult,
to be there without
noise, without distress,
with new compassion.

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Like the mime
he shapes his peace,
moving slow

as summer rivers,
between intended pauses.
Across the water

at its edge — that line
parting dense foliage
from the still dark marsh —

this bright streak
steps and stalks,
his graceful “s” neck

stretching to a thin
white line: elusive
great egret

halting me on the path.

Posted September 3, 2011 by perettipoems in Contemplation, Nature, POEMS & ART COPYRIGHTED, Poetry

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Marshes Call

Marshes along the way
call me to come close,
their sunken terrain
rich with growth.

It’s sound that stops me,
peeping and singing,
songs breaking silence
of its sister woods.

I envy the trees
standing here all day,
their curled arms
reaching in grace

accompanied by
this steady sheet
of music.

Posted September 3, 2011 by perettipoems in Contemplation, Nature, POEMS & ART COPYRIGHTED, Poetry