Peace, Then I Will Go and Smile

Image courtesy of sciencephoto.com

https://amanpan.com/2021/09/30/eugis-weekly-prompt-peace-sept-30-2021/

Peace, an elusive thing you are,
I have known you in fleeting moments
At best---

Would that I could see the whitest of doves,
Feel the lightest, glancing touch of feathers,
Hold the olive branch for a moment—

Yet, how can I partake of such a luxury when—
     When children’s bellies bloat in hunger
     When those of one religion kill those of another
     When those of one skin hate and kill those of another
     When men rape, beat, kill women
     When children and women are bought and sold
     When humanity seeks dominance over all the earth
           At the cost of future generations?

Yes, I want to see the white dove with the olive branch fly—
To know the world is at peace
To know my daughter lives in that peace
To know all the children of world will grow knowing only good
Then death could take my hand 
And I would willingly go 
In peace.



     



The Cloud and the Earth

image courtesy of pixy.org
Soaring, the stretched-out cloud 
drew herself together today,
whispering of her travels
of covering mountains
gently with the purity of her grace,
of caressing the mounds of low
lying prairie lands,
of the torrents of tears 
she shed when tortured
by the wind who kept
her too far, too often
from touching her love,
the earth.

Thus, she spoke 
of her eternal struggle
to touch her lover
as she wished—
melting into her 
completely lost
within her
and never being forced
by wind or sun to move 
away and along.

Glistening Magic

Image courtesy of Pinterest

Eugi’s Causerie Weekly Prompt – Magic – May 20, 2021 – Eugi’s Causerie (amanpan.com)

Magic glistening

in moonstone skin carved of dreams–

softness of dawn’s glow.

 

Nerves crackle with life

as if the stars strike lightning–

gentle winds whisper. 

 

The sky, arms wide, smiles,

coloring the west toward

magic sweeping us.

The Earth We Leave

Image courtesy of Dreamtime.com

A world bequeathed to us

In the breaking sounds of softness

Sighs from the weight

Of lost innocence and souls,

Mourning the loss of her lineage of love

In our desire for riches and more,

Grows weary of the heaviness of us.

 

The tonnage of our selfishness

Swirls in her oceans,

Fouls her air,

Tears apart her mantle.

 

In anger,

Her sky weeps,

Her winds whip up her seas–

All to wipe the weight of us

From her face, her body.

 

Thus, the earth we bequeath.

https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2020/11/07/weekend-writing-prompt-182-bequeath/

Spirit of Stone

Photo courtesy of Sue Vincent’s Thursday Photo Prompt Veiled #writephoto

For visually challenged writers, the image shows a green horizon, beyond which the mist veils a hill topped with strange rock formations.

I knelt before God

as the earth was formed.

For ages I have been here,

spirit of stone unmoving,

waiting above the forest land.

I am the tonnage of stones,

living veiled behind swirling mists.

Yet, I am billions of stones,

existing beyond the veil.

I press the earth for meaning

when I hear the children of earth wail

of suffering through centuries.

I rise above the peace of forest land,

lifting the tonnage of anger I carry.

I am the billions of stones now,

moving beyond the veil.

I have risen, the world,

carrying justice

in the weight of stone,

the children of earth will not be moved.

Behind the veil, I am the tonnage of stones.

I will retreat there when this time is done.

 

Washing the World

Image falling into the rain by Moonlight-Rainstorm on Deviant Art
https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2020/05/23/weekend-writing-prompt-158-downpour/
Use the word downpour and create a poem or prose piece in exactly 88 words.  

 

It does begin with whispers of wind,

Steady, slow rhythm of fattened rain drops.

The distant rumbles begin.

Then the slight, quick flashing starts.

Soon the wind howls.

The rain beats as if a beast

Against the windows.

The rumbles, the shouting of an angry God

At the petulant child of a world.

The flashing, the cracking whip

Of our forgotten master.

The downpour is here,

The sobbing of the forgotten,

The hated, the poor,

The ones we were to love.

No ark on this horizon is seen.

Dance

https://scvincent.com/2020/05/14/thursday-photo-prompt-dance-writephoto/

This week’s prompt ~ Dance

For visually challenged writers, the image shows a pale sun piercing the mists above a green path through a golden field, leading into the center of a circle of stones.

A mist of souls weaves among the stones

A dance between grasses of green and gold

Breezes chant in ancient secret runes,

Speaking in tongues of priestesses and druids–

A single soul leaps toward a shrouded sun,

And something in our blood no longer runs—

At all fluid.

flowering

image courtesy of Getty images

Walk to the end of dark uncurling days
at the edge of the earth,
witness it split open
flowering,
beautiful.
I’d give it to you
could it be contained
boxed, bottled,
held within my hands,
weak as they are,
that cannot hold
such flowering strength.

Earth

Rend the earth again.

Tear, rip through miles of rock and soil

Till the swollen, rounded, glowing core

Of bubbling liquid lies exposed.

Note the flow,

Time the pulses of heat,

Beating with undulating life seen and unseen.

Then watch the viscous liquid cool,

Solidifying against the pain

Of each cold breath you expel,

Stilling the beat of life

Within her.

The transformation to cold, hard stone,

The breaking of her spirit,

She weeps stone tears

For us,

As thus,

Her mother’s heart is torn open.

Red Heart Cedar

This red heart cedar stump,
With its dark crevasses
And holes where bugs had homes,
Was sanded smooth.
A urethane finish added for shine
And protection.
The rings are visible still,
Rings that count the years
Until the tree fell in a storm,
Twisted from the earth
By tornadic winds.

Thus, I found it
In the yard.
Took the chain saw to the tree,
Cut it into chunks,
Along with the others that fell
That day while the dog and I
Sought shelter from the storm.

Now I sand and chisel away.
Routing out some hearts concave,
Bowls to be used for filling
At some future date,
Now standing empty.
Sanding some hearts level,
Tables to be used for holding things,
Yet these are empty too.

All this red heart cedar,
Once stood filled with life,
Now stands empty.