Everything

(Photo: Inbar Asif)

 

It was everything

To her

To tend the naked vines that sprawled

Across her soul,

And through the long cold

Winter

To let the sun pour 

Over

The sprawling expanse of not-yet-sweetness,

As she hoped

And prayed

For fruit

Ripening amidst abundance

Into wine.

 

 

For the dVerse poetry quadrille challenge: Wine

Look Yonder

Yonder spring NYC 2021 NYehuda

(Photo: Na’ama Yehuda)

 

Look yonder and you may see

What has, perhaps, become

Of me.

The good, the bad, we could

Agree,

Had gone to bed and woke up

Free.

Look yonder

And you will find

A key,

To what helps us

Grow

From one, to we.

 

 

 

For Sammi‘s Weekend Writing Prompt: Yonder in 44 words

 

The Orbiter

bulgaria mountains AmitaiAsif

(Photo: Amitai Asif)

 

The sun took her leisure.

It was, after all, the longest day.

She could, till the next time,

Meander

Just a little bit

Across the sky.

Peering down at the blue marble

She raised a ray to salute

The tiny orbit.

Odd,

That one,

In how it keeps questioning

Why.

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Orbit in 50 words

 

The Cathedral

 

They wove the curtained tapestry from centuries of hopes and dreams, and from billions of flower petals and puffy dandelion seeds blown into the wind.

They watered it with the misty breaths of “love me, love me not.”

Fed it with the light that emanated from eyes that had found the answer.

Knit it with the gentleness of fingers reaching out to hold.

Paced it with the heartbeats of the young and old.

All that was necessary.

The best of humans.

And it rose.

A cathedral of magnificence.

Delicate but strong.

Made with magic.

Laced with stories.

Wrought by fairies.

 

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt: © Liz Young

 

Passing Through

hobbit-door-sue-vincent

(Photo: Sue Vincent)

 

She stood before the wall. The exit. The entry.

Hesitant though the thunder of her heart under her chin sang of excitement.

And trepidation.

For how could she not be somewhat wary, going where she was about to.

The unseen.

The hoped for.

The warned of.

The dreamed about.

For she had dreamed of it, as many do and perhaps feel reluctant to share, for fear of hastening what is inevitable or courting what is feared.

She never did find death’s door to be morbid.

It was another entrance.

An adventure all would take and may as well embrace.

She stood before the oval opening. Ready to exit the womb of this world, perhaps be reborn.

The light receded.

The door creaked.

She passed through

To the unknown.

 

 

For the WritePhoto challenge … and for Sue, in her time of transition … We’re all here holding you in light and love.

 

Steps Away

 

“We’ll carry you,” they said.

“It’s only steps away.”

The breeze blew memories of salt and sand and spray.

She raised her finger.

In her mind.

For the one that lay atop the sheets no longer knew

To move.

And yet

It was okay.

Because they understood quite perfectly

What she wanted

To say.

The gladness in her eyes.

The gift

Of yet another

Day.

“We’ll carry you,” they said.

Strong arms linked

As her heart thumped

In time to

The gentle sway.

It was only a few steps

To the water.

To the breathing

Gray surf

Of the bay.

 

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt © CEAyr

 

In A Heartbeat

Basalt Fog KarenForte

(Photo: Karen Forte)

 

The fog cocooned her.

A swift blanket

Of numbing

Penetrative chill

The sun could not

Expel.

And yet

A butterfly’s wing

Flicked against

Her cheek.

A kiss

Of warmer

Days.

A promise for

What what could,

In a heartbeat,

Thaw frost

Into bedazzled

Hope.

 

 

For the dVerse quadrille challenge: swift

For Carol. On your birthday in heaven. Butterfly kisses galore.

 

 

Her Call

 

the path up NaamaYehuda

(Photo: Na’ama Yehuda)

 

It was what she had always

Known

To heed.

A call essential for her

Soul

To feed.

Each hurdle met was but a

Step

To climb.

Paths she rose above as to

Learn

From time.

Her life.

Her loves.

Her lines.

 

 

For Sammi‘s Weekend Writing Prompt: Call in 41 words

 

One For The Way

dustin-humes-JqJbuTLwH74-unsplash

(Photo: Dustin Humes on Unsplash)

 

She knew when she opened the window

That day

That it would be

One

For the way.

The frost on the petals

The chill in the air

The way that stray branches

Scraped against the stair.

The breath of new winter

Kissing her hair.

 

 

 

For the dVerse quadrille challenge: Way

 

 

Solitaire

 

He didn’t think much of the place at first. A chance to put his head down at night under more than just the stars or rain or ice. A plot of land to grow some food on. A space to store the crops and foraged goods that would hold him through those seasons when there was far less available that required far more effort to find.

The paperwork bequeathed him the abandoned croft and several boggy acres around it. The right to hunt and fish. The responsibility to repair and maintain the stone walls and the property, now a historical site, without altering the landscape.

“No villas, no mansions. No golf courses,” the solicitor had stated, only half in jest.

“No worries,” he’d answered.

All he ever needed was a room, a roof, a hearth.

And solitude.

For sanity.

Crowds made his belly flutter and his ears ring and his feet fidget with an ache for fleeing. The chatter made him cringe. The swift ticking of clocks made his heart skip some if its own beats.

The open spaces slowed his panic.

Calmed the bickering voices that would otherwise ricochet between his ears.

He built. He farmed. He slept. He woke. He walked.

He didn’t think much of the place at first. Then the old house became a home, the plot of land became his gem, and the hills became both fort and fortitude.

His very spirit soothed.

 

 

 

For Sue Vincent’s WritePhoto challenge – Welcome back, Sue, we missed you!

(Photo credit: Sue Vincent)