A New Dawn

pink sunrise KarenForte

Photo: Karen Forte

 

“…There’s a special beauty to the world resuming definition. I always loved pre-dawn and the gradual emergence of the world from under wraps of darkness. A hesitant light followed by a glorious brush of sunrise obliterating the black with oranges and yellows so bright you must look away and blink, only to find morning had arrived.

I walked faster now that I could see more of the ground in front of me. Brambles and tangled roots were easier to avoid and step over when I didn’t need to test every step.

Sunrise in the forest felt gentler than the ones I’d sat through on my porch. Not so much a blinding line of light across the sky as it was a filtering of color working its way from the canopies above and down the foliage, branches, trunks and finally the ground. Tired and worried, I still found myself mesmerized by the wonder of it all. Goosebumps covered my arms not only from the morning chill but also from something that felt almost like a memory: pink sky chasing blue across the ceiling of the world, the dazzled dance of dust along the shafts of molten, golden light. It felt familiar. Maybe I had seen a forest-sunrise during my own life’s dawn. …”

(Excerpt from “Outlawed Hope”)

 

For the Tuesday Photo Challenge: Sunrise

 

Sailed Horizon

sail horizon naamayehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

I will paddle into sunlight

Where the ocean

Kisses sky,

Where the sailboats’

Neat triangles

Patch the blue

With bits of pie.

 

 

For Nancy Merrill’s Photo A Week Challenge

 

Row Ahead

ahead KarenForte

Photo: Karen Forte

 

Row ahead

On the water

Toward shores

Yet to tread.

Hold on to

Oars that matter

To kind oaths

You have pledged.

Row abreast

With the others

Who ride forth

On life’s thread.

 

 

For Pumpkin’s Prompts: Water

 

Horse Spirit

Photo: Palaeolithic art at Foz Côa’s Archaeological Park, Portugal 

 

“Why do you hit the rock with sharpened stones?”

Golin quaked under The Elder’s frown. It was forbidden to harm The Rocks That Shelter. The big stones protected them from biting teeth and snarling maws. They stopped the wind. They held back scorching sun. They reflected heat from fires.

And let flames paint shadows, Golin thought.

“He will drive away Horse Spirit and we will starve,” Morsen scowled predictably.

“Let him answer,” The Elder said.

Morsen seethed. The old man always favored Golin.

“The Rocks That Shelter do not anger when the fire lives in them,” Golin pointed at the dancing reflection on the wall.

“He makes no sense,” Morsen pouted. A few others nodded but The Elder’s stony gaze did not leave Golin’s face.

“They draw the fire near,” Golin stressed. Couldn’t they see? “Perhaps The Rocks That Shelter will welcome Horse Spirit and call it here.”

 

 

For What Pegman Saw: Douro, Portugal

 

Pink For A Queen

pink patch NaamaYehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

There was a small patch

Of pink

In the large sea

Of green.

Flowers with

Heads together

Like bouquets

Fit for a queen.

 

 

For the September Pink Squares Challenge

 

 

A Taste of Heights

Fair flying1 SmadarHalperinEpshtein

Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein

 

“I can almost touch the moon!” she swung her arms in exuberance as the ride reached its apex and the spinning accelerated.

“I can almost touch last week’s dinner,” her sister croaked a white-knuckled response.

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Taste, 35 words (original prompt)

Also see Sammi’s own updated take on the prompt

 

 

 

In Case Of Rain

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

 

It was their anniversary, and once again he was late.

The office manager held him up for nonsense that could’ve easily waited for tomorrow. Mr. Billings often did so when Gary was in a rush. It was a cruel little game he played, knowing that with previous ‘insubordination’ records in his file, Gary could not afford even the slightest reprimand. No job, no health insurance.

His phone buzzed as he rushed to the restaurant. A text.

“Lost?”

Mary. Gary’s heart sank. He ran faster. His phone vibrated again.

“I’m under a blue umbrella. You know, in case of rain.”

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

 

 

It’ll Do

three line tales, week 137: an abandoned asylum

Photo: Nathan Wright via Unsplash

 

Never mind the mildew and dirt, the echoes in corridors of sad stories they knew.

There’ll be roof over heads and a shelter for those who lost all yet pulled through.

We will clean it all up. Make a home for these kids. It’ll do.

 

 

For Three Line Tales, Week 137

 

Haphazard Town

City Lights2 SmadarHalperinEpshtein

Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein

 

One does not need a plan

To get lost

In this new town

She thought

Right before

She did.

 

 

For The Weekend Writing Prompt: Haphazard

Dedicated to my friend F.C. who at least had the wherewithal to call the local cavalry …

 

 

Long Unseen

Archeology Tel Zafit AtaraKatz

Photo: Atara Katz

 

As the stories unfold

Pried from time’s

Stranglehold

Bit by bit

You’ll behold

What the fingers

Of old

Would have seen

Could have told.

 

For the d’Verse Poets challenge: Unseen Things