Together, We are Massive
The news worsens
I am confounded
My confidence gone
Who am I
As a member
Of this country
Previously proud to be so
Now embarrassed
Saddened
Grieved by the egregious
Actions
And threats
Of our preposterous president.
I know not what to do
I lie awake. Awake.
Hour after hour
Sick with worry
Hopeless as I am helpless
To fix, to mitigate even
Disaster after disaster.
From deep in the private
Recesses
Of my hurting heart
Comes a silken shroud
I allow myself
To be wrapped within
The soft and warm
I release briefly
My stale breath
Letting the acid
Ascending from my gut
Trickle back down
my vise grip opens
and the scraping of teeth
whispers into silence.
It is from within
This protected den
I hear
The gentle voice
Of love and
Reason
Much to my chagrin
And relief
I am reminded
I am not all-powerful
Nor all-knowing
But I am enough
To answer
That which is my call
Which is within
My reach
I can hold onto truth
As I experience it
I can share love
I can feel joy
For in this time of
Great suffering
In this time of
Conflict-violence-evil
We can only but do
each
Our own part
Participate in healing
That which lay
Within our reach
The writers must write
The painters must paint
The protectors must protect
Lovers must love
And the faithful
And the doubters
Must pray
And so on.
We all must watch
And listen
Create a sabbath
In our hearts
Each day
And then
When we hear
in the silence of our hearts
the calling or our names
Our jobs will become clear
And we must go forth
With courage
To do each our part
No matter how small
For together
We are massive
Together
We will survive
Patricia O’Connor
January 2026
Lunar Honor
Lunar Honor
What a fun honor
It must be
To be a Super Moon!
To reflect
So brilliantly
The Light of the
Son
To be able
At times
To duck
Behind the clouds
And hide from the world
To emerge
At times
A mere half
Of oneself
Or even
A crescent!
To illuminate
A winter night
With the
Scintillation
Of a million diamonds
Reflecting off the
Snow-covered landscape
To be the cause
Of insomnia
And maybe even
A bit of
Mischief
What a great honor
It must be
To be a Super Moon
To reflect
The Light
Of the Son
Upon the world!
Love Off the Page
Love Off the Page
The Power of Love
Words
Two dimensional letters
Clustered
Arranged
Lifeless
Cold
And yet
When witnessed
When you stand
In the kitchen
And have the honor
Of being present
For an embrace
Of brothers
Your heart
Changes form
Puffs up
With warmth
Grows outward
Pushing its
Self-imposed
Boundaries
Filling your eyes
Threatening tears
An involuntary
Smile
Appears
There is a near
Palpable energy
Electric-like
Zipping through
The room
In these moments
You know
There is Power
In Love
In these moments
You know
Life is
Precious
In these moments
Current world crises
Fade away
Frigid temps
Melt into nothingness
For You know
There is
Power in Love
And
Life is good.
November Robins
Breast the color
Of weathered bricks
Shiny black head
Of the male
Duller charcoal black
Of the female
Dirty yellow beak
Feathers charcoal grey
Beads of black for eyes
Accentuated by rings of white
It is the eyes
Which captivate
Seeming to penetrate
Deeply into my soul
They remain fixed
Not deterred
By my return gaze
In Ireland
The robin (spideog)
Is considered to be
Sacred
Believed to have
Acquired its red chest from
The blood of Jesus
When removing
Pain-inflicting thorns
From His crown
As He hung on the cross
Many cultures
Attribute Legends
of heroism and self-sacrifice
To the small birds
Calling their red breasts
A badge of honor
The American robin
Is a thrush
The European robin
An Old-World flycatcher
United by the red breast
They are both called robins
Scientists say
The robin’s eyes
Sense the weak force
Of the earth’s magnetic field
Giving them a compass to navigate by
What force do they sense
From me
What do they wish me to understand?
I wonder
What causes me to be
Filled with awe
And covered with goosebumps
As I gaze into the eyes
Of these birds
Believed by many
To be messengers for those
In the spirit world.
November robins
Eleven of them
Living in their winter flock
Hop around the yard
Pulling up worms
From the earth
Soon they will be existing
On berries and seeds
As winter hardens
The earth.
November robins
Hopping from branch to branch
Atop the crab apple tree
Feeding on their winter food
As mother deer
And her fawn
Munch the fruit
Fallen below
Yes, winter is coming
But spring will return
And I will once again
Work in the garden beds
With these same robins
Living in pairs
Singing that familiar
Courting tune
They will sit nearby
Waiting for me to unearth
A scrumptious treasure
But for today
I will enjoy
The gift
Of
Robins in November!
Spirit in Creation: Two Women, One Vision Finding Peace and Truth in Creation
This video is of one of the poems from my new book, written with Marjorie Burke. The video, as you can see, done months after the poem was written!
From Spirit in Creation: Two Women, One Vision Finding Peace and Truth in Creation
Love
Love
As a person of faith and wonder
As a resident of this troubled country
Of this hurting world,
As a person
I believe
That Love is the answer
Love heals
Comforts, supports
Includes, affirms
Love is an energy for good
That energy will bring peace
And compassion
To the human heart
Then from each heart
Open to witnessing
Expressing love
In all its forms
There will be ripples
Which will spread to our families
Communities
Countries
World
If only
We push aside
The curtains of fear
And hate
Greed
and power lust
If only we dare to
Open our hearts
To seeing Love
Knowing Love
Feeling Love
Sharing Love.
Amen.
May it be so.
Patricia O’Connor
patocwriter.com
There is Joy
There is joy
In being understood
And accepted
Even in the understanding
There is joy
In being in the presence
Of one who truly cares about you
Without judgement
Fear of failure
Of not measuring up
Of not being seen
As perfect
All melt away
And as fear dissipates
Joy expands
Fills, lifts
Life blossoms
Life can be so hard
In the presence of rancor
And passionate disagreement
In a world where it seems
Lies are the norm
Greed is okay
Hate is applauded
Life can be so hard
But there is joy
In laughing
With a true friend
At our human foibles
There is joy
In an unexpected
Beverage break
In a welcoming space
Encountering new friends
And almost new.
There is joy
In a mountain vista
In red, crunchy apples
Dripping out deliciousness
With each bite
In autumn flowers
Holding court
For buzzing bees
And elegant butterflies
There is joy
In that first bite
Of fall’s special
An apple cider donut!
There is joy
In lifting my face
To partake of a heavenly shower
So welcome
After a seemingly interminable drought
There is joy~
And for that
I am most grateful
May I hold faith
That even when
The world
Seems so cruel
So heartless
That there will always
Be spaces
Places
And people
Of joy!
Patricia O’Connor
September 2025
Check out this video!
The book is called Spirit in Creation: Two Women, One Vision Finding Peace and Truth in Creation. It was written by myself and Marjorie Burke. It is a “story” of a year + in our lives when we immersed ourselves in creation and wrote what moved us. It was a year of turmoil in our world, but peace within our beings. We share this peace with all of you by posting this video of a poem from the book. This is from a reading at Two Villages Art Studio in Contoocook, NH. The book is available at Two Villages, local bookstores in NH, at Mercy By the Sea in CT and through my website patocwriter.com
Please join us! This will be a wonderful weekend!
Crumbs for the Journey 