Month: April 2021

The Struggle

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Weekend Writing Prompt #206 – Restless | Sammi Cox (wordpress.com)

Restless roses

climb skyward

toward the eternal

their grace defeated

as winds thrust

them downward

toward dirt

they escape.

Music of Hope

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Eugi’s Weekly Prompt – Dance – April 22, 2021 – Eugi’s Causerie (amanpan.com)

My dance was escape

From the always too much vine

You are, crawling over the souls of others,

Choking them with tendrils of your love.

My dance, too strong for such tendrils,

Stepping the swirl patterns

Of aloneness,

Finds joy.

My dance, leaving colors of spring

In the wake of its rhythms,

Paints new life into me.

My dance, following no one,

Discovers love in its patterns,

Creating new steps of invitation

To be followed by my soul.

My dance, flaming and firing in warmth,

Burns away the coldness meant to kill.

The Chase of Words

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VJ’s Weekly Challenge: The Chase – One Woman’s Quest II

 

The words—

It is the always—the words—

I have always been

Searching the sidewalks, paths, trails, highways, the sky outside

     For the words—

Combing gently through those I love

     For the words—

Hunting the faces of strangers, my own face, my dogs, my friends

     For the words—

Scouring the hearts, the souls of those I observe

     For the words—

Ransacking restful, peace giving nature

     For the words—

Scourging even, in the chase, my faith

     For the words—

And they are never perfect.

Whispered Tales

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A phoenix rises in flames

From out the left side of my chest

With feathers of flame yet,

Set free to fly where it wills.

 

One day, it will return,

Nuzzling deep inside my chest again,

All the ashes gone,

All flame having died away,

Its fiery colored feathers

Whispering, singing to my blood

Of beauty seen,

Of tantalizing things touched,

Of all the air breathed, smelled, felt,

Of the sounds soft and harsh heard

All along the way around the earth.

 

Through the whispered tales

Of those fiery feathers

My blood will tell me

Where I am to go.

 

The Work of Spring

image courtesy of anoregoncottage.com

I clipped away dead branches

From the living shrubs today.

Not an easy thing,

But a thing that must be done.

Strange it is how dead things

Will cling so tightly to the living

As if to squeeze

The last remaining bits of life away

And thus, have company in death and dying.

There is yet more to do

So only the living things are left

To flourish in the spring sun.