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The Great Heron

Image is my own

I greeted the Great Heron

With a hello.

Then asked for some wisdom

Or some secrets of the earth.

 

But the Great Heron

Didn’t bother with a no.

Just a fluff of feathers

Before turning away

Without being troubled

To even look at me.

The red wing black birds

Chittered away in laughter

As the gentle doves

Cooed soothingly.

 

The crows cawed,

Rather obnoxiously,

About time running down.

I said I knew

And was aware of the beauty

In lessons along the way.

Even in the lessons so painful

You thought they might

Break your soul in two

Held a beauty in the end.

 

The crows disliked what I said,

And they couldn’t disagree,

So, screaming out a caw,

Flew away.

 

Turning his eyes to me,

The Great Heron shifted on his log,

Before opening his wings

And flying away,

Letting me know

He had nothing to say.

 

 

	


	
	






	
	

		
Music of Hope
	


	

		

Image courtesy of Pxhere.com










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 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.

	


	
	






	
	

		
Decision on a Birdfeeder
	


	

		

image courtesy of publicdomainpictures.net




 


I hesitate in remembrance


as if the fates would choose


a day of gray and leave me there,


as if a blossoming could be had upon


a second visitation to any day.


 


The creamer clouds disperse and swirl


in my extra strong coffee


like memories of things I wanted–


never had, never attained


all those years ago.


 


Stirring the coffee still,


I stare out the kitchen window.


Decide against a bird feeder


filled with black oil sunflower seeds.


I do not want cardinals here.


People say cardinals are spirits


of those you’ve lost come to visit you—


No.  I want no cardinals here.


No spirits of the lost to visit or say hello.


No twittering or chittering away.


No vibrancy of color outside this window.


No.  Not here.  Not in this place.


 


I’d rather this be a spiritless place,


A virgin place, void of spirits, void of touch—


 


At least for a time


 


 


 
	


	
	






	
	

		
Angels Call
	


	

		

Image courtesy of PixelsTalk.Net





Weekend Writing Prompt #197 – Call | Sammi Cox (wordpress.com)




 


angels call, singing for a while,


watching us,


aping things they’d heard, saw,


obsessing over things                                            


we tossed away–


time, primarily–


angels lost feathers, attempting to understand


our tossing away time like used tissues, soiled food tins–


when we held little.


 


 
	


	
	






	
	

		
Give the Gift of Words This Holiday Season
	


	

		




braveandrecklessblog's avatarGo Dog Go Café




















































Available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble online, Book Depository, Chapters, and other major online book retailers. 




Also available to order through your local independent bookstore.






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As The World Burns – Out Now!
	


	

		
Now available!  So honored and so excited about the work in this anthology.


TheFeatheredSleep's avatarTheFeatheredSleep





Indie Blu(e) Publishing are very proud to announce the publication of As The World Burns. Our third socially-aware anthology. As The World Burns is available via all good book stores in Kindle and softback  NOW. It is an incredible collection of writers, many of whom are from WordPress and are in our writing groups, writing some of our favorite work. We hope you will support them and our efforts to spread awareness of socially vital subjects. If you have felt frustrated with politics, Covid-19, Black Lives Matter, Homophobia or any of the things happening ‘as the world burns’ this is the collection for you. 









We dedicate this anthology to those who have bravely fought the  encroaching darkness in 2020 with their writing and their art,  and who insist that racism, sexism, homophobia, and war are  not inevitable, or acceptable, facets of the human condition.  As The World Burns is a story of…


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Autumn Dawn
	


	

		

Image is my own





https://freeverserevolution.wordpress.com/2020/10/19/oct-4-ripples/











Ignoring the ripples doesn’t work,


Beautiful though they may be


In the early light of an autumn dawn.


 


The ripples return.


Their warmth long gone,


Drained of blood.


 


Injected with colors of autumn’s dawn,


They look full, alive with mysterious meaning.


 


But cold these ripples remain


In their return to me.


 


Time shifts,


Tilting beneath my feet.


 


I shutter and stare, a moment only—


I cannot weave these cold things


Into a useful thing, resembling you.
	


	
	






	
	

		
The Last Supper
	


	

		

Image courtesy of Wikipedia: Leonardo Da Vinci, The Last Supper









Lives ruined in place–


ego upon a pedestal


basks in sunshine


yet never feels


unless destroying green things


in the softness of evening


when moon and sun fill


the evening skies


of shorter days–


time no longer


a forgotten toy


thrown by the wayside


but an ornament of luxury


I wish I could hold close


within my hands without


it leaks between my fingers


marking any signs of reverence


as if with blood irony–


all the while the rest cough


green phlegm of ill regard.


 


On the walls fling the words of meaning,


clichés all—of love and family,


of time so very treasured,


the welcome of strangers


without the pillar of salt,


the love of neighbors in a city quest,


and asking, pleading how have we hid


the monsters we do hide within our homes,


within our churches,


within our souls and hearts–


the monsters, the demons we cannot exorcise


since we cannot stand to see our own


face within our reflections upon time,


creation, connections to the past—


when we cannot acknowledge


the face of God hidden away


from the reflection of our own faces,


in the faces of others, the face of God


hidden away, void of the divine,


as are we consumed with consuming


vitriol for anything, for everything


remotely resembling the other.


 


 


 
	


	
	






	
	

		
	

		
Mad World Creativity Prompt Challenge: A White Mad World – Annette Kalandros
	


	

		








I am honored to be featured on braveandreckless.com as part of the Creativity Challenge: Mad World.










braveandrecklessblog's avatarBrave & Reckless




The number of our destruction smacked us in the face,




But too many didn’t want to see.




They liked the words they heard,




Shrinking their ever-enlarging world:




 –Where you walk is holy




 (as long as you got thousand-dollar shoes)




 –We don’t care! Just wanna keep up with a Kardashian or two.




 –I ain’t wearin’ no mask. Ain’t nobody gonna tell me what to do!




 –Who the hell cares if a black man can’t breathe? Cuz he shouldn’t




  give a cop a reason to put a knee on his neck!




The seven tentacles touched us to the core




Long, long before:




 –It’s all you can eat!




 –Trade in that old husband or wife for a new, sexier model!




 –Who wants to work that hard! Buy college scores!




 –We’re so much better than those Mexicans, Blacks, Queers, Muslims,




 those shithole countries.




 –Drop a bomb! Just drop the fuckin’ bomb on the bastards!




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