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About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write.
Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground.
 
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Daily Cascade
Since my old blog "Everyday Canvas "  became overfilled, here's a new one. This new blog item will continue answering prompts, the same as the old one.
Cool water cascading to low ground
To spread good will and hope all around.
August 17, 2025 at 2:14pm August 17, 2025 at 2:14pm
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Prompt:
"To be really great in little things, to be truly noble and heroic in the insipid details of everyday life, is a virtue so rare as to be worthy of canonization."
Harriet Beecher Stowe
Which kinds of details are important to you in general or in everyday life?
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Ordinary but with depth and meaning. Also, noble, heroic. and playful, too. No, I'm not describing a kitten, but I'm referring to everyday life with its little details. Surely, Harriet Beecher Stowe in her short quote did a much better job than I just did, but what I write, when there is a quote in the prompt, encourages the nobility and the patience of my friends who read what I write. 
So, let's not dismiss everyday life as ordinary. In everyday life, tiny details make the day softer, nicer, and sometimes even more tolerable. This is when someone chooses kindness in the rush-hour traffic by letting my car merge ahead or the simple details of getting breakfast and brewing coffee.
Such details in everyday life have to do with endurance. This is because life asks me to persist, to keep going on no matter what. Getting out of bed in the morning despite aching bones, showing up to do whatever I need to do when the world feels heavy, waving at my neighbor on the yard, watering a wilted plant in a pot, or making a meal after a long day...all point to my quiet bravery, if I may say so.
Then, there's the fun part...such as that odd sock from the dryer, the way sunlight dances on the lawn, and salamanders chasing each other on the porch's screen...all are details or rather threads that add meaning to the fabric of my day.
This is because what seems small, usually, isn't. What's noble, heroic, or fun need not be grand occasions. If and when I am not so full of myself, I can see them in the quiet details of my ordinary days.
How noble my tea feels
in a cup, placing warmth
in my hands
and the deep breath I take
instead of an angry reply,
or the giggle when I drop
the egg on the floor, instead of
in the pan.
Not milestones but repetition
shape-shifting into the fabric
of my life, made of small threads
of care, wonder, and persistence
for the ordinary is
never the ordinary
at all.
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