Wash me
rivers of love
like tiny rose petals
budding underneath
tapered fields
Wash me
bare
my imperfections
with the tides
Healing storms in my pocket
deeper and deeper still
Wash me…
Visionariekindess2015 (Image by Malisha Goggans)
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(PROJECT Happiness image)
Courage is the price that life exacts for granting peace.
The soul that knows it not, knows no release from little things. -Amelia Earhart, aviator (24 Jul 1897-1937)
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(free google image)
Maybe I’m breaking through my own soil. Finding the balance to live holistically healthy in spirit, mind and body. I am giving birth to a new me with the possibility of embracing happiness. I am here to experience love, and joy. The contrast of pain and sickness I am fully aware: in a world where dying is the end result, I still choose life. My launching pads are set, ready to journey deep into waters. I don’t have all the answers, yet something beckons within, holdout my fishing line and be ready for goodness to overflow.
http://www.writeforhealing.com/stories-by-you/2015/8/19/new-waters
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Cultivating
stillness
let it
be
easy and gentle
only then we can reflect light…
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Ode my spirit
strumming
chimer -ing straws of memories
I was called here
bumming rides on-wombs of mercy
Ode spirit – shivering greatness -in birth
Ham-bone and grinning
Junes’ Snow
Blueberry oak
Expanding in Milk and Honey
Ode spirit,
I’ve come…
I’ve come, home.
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(Free google image)
His hat hung just above the tiled brow.
Formerly he wore his best,
High altered pursuit -Ivory Grey
Drinking -dusty winds
Perching, gently its blue-ish bill.
Practicing his craft on human-rubbish
Gliding his hallowed cry – eeeer.
Against ghetto ‘s, sand-dunes,war zones and cliffs too
Robotic faces shhing feathered hands
still on he came,
Proudly, shaking the bear,
Resiliently, greeting lion cubs,
Flying parallel with each blustery storm.
Protected by the universe, Mr. Sea Gull.
Today I did not follow the prompt, I’ve gone my own way. I meet a beautiful friend today and thought I’d share my feelings. National Poetry is coming to a close.I felt much pressure writing. I’ve enjoyed each fresh rhythmic line. I have much to be thankful for. Writing is my water,my glass-slippers to the ball.My healing. Writing is my friend. All Rights Reserved 2015.
Please check out NaPoWriMo here for today’s prompt if you like:
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Plantingtree space
in my soul.
Tilling
watered holes
turning over anew.
Gardening
inward growth
preparing for harvest.
As (April )National Poetry Month is quickly passing- I am blessed today with all goodness and kind words, flowing on my blog and others(such positive goodness) . Please visit if you haven’t
The dedication bloggers have-its in our blood. I understand this habit of writing and sharing. As (my grand) daddy would say Howdy-“keep milking the cows,chase a hens or two that’s good livin!”… I am thankful for this space to write. There is nothing more beautiful,when I look around and see love…
And today’s prompt – optional, as always — comes to us from Vince Gotera. It’s the hay(na)ku). Created by the poet Eileen Tabios and named by Vince, the hay(na)ku is a variant on the haiku. A hay(na)ku consists of a three-line stanza, where the first line has one word, the second line has two words, and the third line has three words. You can write just one, or chain several together into a longer poem. For example, you could write a hay(na)ku sonnet, like the one that Vince himself wrote back during NaPoWriMo 2012!
Happy writing!
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In the attic my sanctuary
under the mercy seat
enchanted voices blossom
I hear you calling me, through the gates of praise
Into the holies of holies
I’ll find me,here I stand,
I belong with you,
No more excuse,I laid it down
So here I stand under the mercy seat,
you are my only guide ,my inner source
you in me and I in you
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Black Waters Spice,
You do something nice,
A comfy currant with cinnamons and cayenne.
Inside my Low-days,
Fishy-grey thoughts.
I do blame,
wash away with Lavender & Sage.
My black waters spice
I found my happy, smells good too…
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I write to keep my rhythm and string.Sometimes Its all I have, while life abandon’s me.Centering all my ticks and tocks.Cultivating these itchy thoughts. A healthy word a day keep the demons at bay. Regenerating word-cells ; if it were not for writing I would be alone.
Poet:Krissy Mosley
Krissy Mosley Ministries 