Hope Redux Light shakes its starry head, turns to the angel’s eye. Many live in the motion that has just been born. The singular in ourselves refutes death, invents all we know of one another. *** This is a found poem created from the poem “Hope” by Lisel Mueller which I heard recently on The Writers Almanac. Continue reading Napowrimo 10/30: Hope Redux
Morning sunshine backlights the ferns giving them a glowing radiance. Mockingbirds swoop and hop over the garden from wire to tree in a spring mating dance, oblivious to the full feeder where other birds feast. A slight breeze rustles the bamboo like slippered feet crossing the floor and the wind-chime offers a solitary ding from time to time. I knew this morning was perfect when the dogs awoke me with kisses and eagerly bound down the stairs, tails waving like flags. **** NaPoMo prompt courtesy of This is not a Literary Journal: “Go outside, sit and observe. Make a … Continue reading In the Garden
You parade both of your faces You have no guile, no artifice When your mood is frigid your breath blows ice crystals The heat of your scowl shrivels the most verdant terrain But on days like today your benevolence rolls in waves washing us all in rapture Continue reading Morning Meditation: Autumn Nirvana
“People are like cities: We all have alleys and gardens and secret rooftops and places where daisies sprout between the sidewalk cracks, but most of the time all we let each other see is is a postcard glimpse of a skyline or a polished square” ~ Hilary T. Smith, Wild Awakening Continue reading People are like cities
