All Knowing

It’s been awhile since I’ve sat down to “free” write much of anything worthy of eyes and time. So, here goes a draft of something that has little relation to anything, other than a fledgling writer’s recommitment to practice her craft~

Perched upon a twisted branch, nestled deep within the tree top’s canopy, a raven hid. Beneath its view, a woman lay sprawled upon the mossy floor. Tousled locks, the colour of spun gold, fanned over the green that bedded her body. She was covered in tapestry, its richness deeper and bluer than the ocean that smashed beneath the hillside cliffs at the forest’s edge.

It was the glint of diamond pinned at her neckline that caught the Raven’s eye.

A woman’s body, once an empty vessel, was filling. Was she drowning? One hand slid over her heart. The steady rhythm, a comfort. She stirred, grateful to be alive.

What all knowing presence had snuck beneath her skin? Its comforting warmth now surging through her veins; its wisdom trickling down in whispers, “seek and you shall  find.”

Full lips parted and she drank the words as quenching to her hollow as a downpour over parched earth. As a seed unfurls, she felt herself transforming back to life.

Once again, the voice spoke. This time the words were audible, “You are not alone.”

A flash of black broke through the verdant canopy. Eyes wide, she knew the answer to her question.

This ephiephemy hadn’t come about in easy fashion. Rather, it had been a journey of twists and turns, thorns and roses, darkness and light. Steeped in the brew were moments of glimmering truths.

Beauty is found within shambles. A gritty truth she understood. Glances back through time, a particular poem cut from a Daily, a chipped, floral tea cup, a photograph and an untold story. All small, cracked and torn moments forged to memory.

She stood, a forearm shielding her forehead and faced the dark fury. A lone voice commanded, “Be not afraid.”

She straightened. The others had circled, an army of silent souls. Sentries, they stood guard.  Step for step, they had matched her pace along this journey, only pausing when she had collapsed, to rest her cheek upon the carpeted forest floor.

Autumn Light

Kissed by autumn’s softened light

I sit at my desk

Writing, wondering

The moment simple, quiet

Surrounded by words and thoughts

Tucked away memories

A gentle sadness, softened by time

Rustles

As I cast a spell of silence and peace

 

The wind whispers your name

Rock a bye, rock a bye

Siren’s sing you home

Rock a bye, rock a bye

To a land suspended in time

Rock a bye, rock a bye

Hush your weary mind

Rock a bye, rock a bye

Do not fear the journey

The stars, your compass

 

Memories flutter like cranes

Lifted higher upon the wind

Your love is true

Rock a bye, rock a bye

Our souls shall meet again

On the other side of time

Rock a bye, rock a bye

 

 

 

Fill My Heart With Song

Mahogany Cabinet redux~ annie sloan chalk paint
Mahogany Cabinet redux~
annie sloan chalk paint

Pink blossoms arrived through my inbox this morning. My sister has an eye for beauty and photographed these images. I poured another cup of black coffee and swooned over the screen. Gorgeous.

Sunshine and Cherry Blossoms; heaven on earth.

 

Cherry Blossom 3JPG Cherry Blossom Cherryblossom Tree 2

beautiful words

Blood Moon.jpg

i want to write beautiful words

of moonbeams mingling with starlight

inky skies awash in an infinite universe

of glistening raindrops slipping

a baby’s nuzzle

of gentle hugs for fractured hearts

only speak beguiling words

of enduring promise

for a collective world

of empathy and oneness

sing lilting cradlesongs

of an endless lullaby

 

I want to write beautiful words

But my heart is weary

 

Midnight

You were born beneath an ireful star, launched into a destiny predetermined by a past. So, it is fitting that I wait for your arrival at the darkest hour of night.

In dreams, I am certain you return.

It is winter’s cusp, a time of confusion and crossover. Hail mixes with sunshine. Green shoots wither with frost. A time of sorrows passing and joy’s celebratory re-birth.

I wait on a barren beach, protected by crisscrossed driftwood, tucked in and sheltered from raging winds. Even the gulls have left.

In the distance, the thundering rollers call. Waves tumble and break to slip upon the shore. A heavenly mess, the water’s advance and retreat orchestrated with military precision.

From a safe vantage point, I see only unending swaths of gloom. The sky beyond is thickly brushed with inky, blue-black strokes. My eyes glance up toward the heavens. There waits the moon, full and ripe as a melon. Flickers of starlight sparkle through darkness.

A grey drop cloth of cloud obscures the distance. A split begins to form. Winds rip asunder the gauzy veil. A moon beam illuminates the watery path ahead. In the distance a red rowboat approaches. A man holds an oar.

Slowly, the shroud rises, carried off, held by the beaks of forty-eight diamond doves. Their wings rustle and heave as the curtain rises. You return in peace.

Lost at sea, a drift with one oar, the tides have brought you home. I leave my wind worn shelter and stand at the water’s edge.

Sailing closer to land, you fix your gaze upon mine. The ocean’s song rocks the rowboat with a final push to settle upon sand. My hand reaches out to steady you. Once on solid ground you straighten and pause. Reaching into your pocket, you pull out a stone. “This is for you.” You look away and lower your head.

“Thank you,” I reply.

Cool to first touch, the stone becomes warmer; a talisman nestled in my palm. I turn it and note the imperfections, see the flaws beneath a smooth surface. The passage of time has softened its form. The stone is actually glass. Once fragile and abandoned, its story has shaped over time. It ends in the form of a heart.

“Don’t cast it,” you say.

My fingers reach for a stick that rests upon the sand. Words whisper through wind, “This is for you.”

I press letters at the ocean’s edge.

D-I-G-N-I-T-Y

That is all I seek. It is the gift you gave back to me.

 

 

 

 

 

I’ve Learned

As we age, we gain wisdom through the rear view mirror. Pay attention to that view.

I’ve learned that having the last word doesn’t mean you’ve won and that silence doesn’t sound like defeat.

Appreciate everyone “messes up.” Some of the best people are the ones who have pulled themselves from the ditch, straightened, and dusted off the debris.

Vulnerability of heart is the most authentic rendering. Seek it in others and treasure its glimmer.

Be brave. Tell your story. You never know who might relate or be inspired from it.

Listen to others. That is how we seed the first stirrings of compassion.

Imagine. Pick stars from the heavens. Toss them about. Let their light shine through you.

I’ve learned that when others belittle you- walk away. Their words say more about them than about you. Keep your head high. And that one kind word can make a difference in the life of another. Go ahead- send that letter, speak those words, reach out and make the call.

I’ve learned you will love and lose; love anyways. Good byes are meant to be difficult. Only then do we appreciate what we had.

It is a universal law that you will be tested. Take the test and learn from your mistakes. Then wallow in your blessings.

Learn that friends can circle like family and that’s okay. Remain loyal to your tribe.

When you have, give. It just feels better.

Always find a way to forgive. Tattoo it on a wrist. People that hurt you are “hurting” souls.

Learn not to kick someone when they are down. Remember you’ve been there and that at any time, it’s a short tumble back.

Do at least one kind action a day. The world is starved to feed from gentle acts.

And at the end of the day, degrees and diplomas mean nothing. Pretty things fade, and your net worth will mean little. It isn’t about status or assets. People will judge you on how you made them feel.

And wear the gold sequin dress.

 

Three Words

Peace On Earth Postcard - Rifle Paper Company
Peace On Earth Postcard~ The graphics and colours are oh so lovely.
– Rifle Paper Company

https://riflepaperco.com/

Peace on Earth. Three blessed words. We hear the phrase spoken, breathe the message. Why then, is it so difficult for human kind to live the credo?

Once children, we played by The Golden Rule: “Do unto others as you would have done unto yourself. ” We grew up, we forgot.

Three words. A stretch of the heart; the pull a reminder to soften. Peace on Earth, an opportunity to show compassion toward another.  We cry the same tears.

“Hush,” you say. A hand reaches forth, a light shines in darkness. “Walk with me,” is the whisper.

I cast a stone to the ocean. Who am I to judge? The waves lift and carry the offering

to land at your feet.

Do you see now? Connected, our actions ripple and roll from shore to shore and heart to heart. Stand with me. Hand to hand, our fingers weave together, arms reach around the globe. Peace on Earth.

Three words.

The inspiration for this passage came from the Rifle Co.- Peace on Earth Postcard. As we move toward November 11, the Canadian Remembrance Day and American Veteran’s Day, I felt the message timely. Peace on Earth. 

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