The weather is too cold, too hot, too wet, too dry but something, since there’s room, if only rock, may call it home and welcome passing waves of water, air and other life although what comes may soon move on. Its welcome doesn’t mind the moving on. It’s glad to serve as ground.
We build out there where weather’s hot or cold or wet or dry like plants that cuddle sheltered by the cracks from waves of water, air and other life. It’s bleak but something calls this pure space home and some proclaim this home a sacred place.
Text: Linked to Sue Vincent’s #writephoto prompt and as a prose poem to dVerse Meeting the Bar where Amaya Engleking hosts with the prompt “jazz poetry”.
Photo: Sue Vincent provided the photo for the prompt.
Poetry, Short Prose and Walking 
I think that that is a place I could actually call my home… wonderful really.
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I looks like a place I wish I could walk to every now and then hoping I don’t fall. Thanks, Bjorn!
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I like your repetitions and echoes. It has that relentless jazz riffing thing going on.
BTW, did you get my email? I’m never sure if things get through…
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Yes, I did get your email. I will respond hopefully by this weekend. Thanks, Sarah!
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You caught the sound of the waves in your prose, Frank…and I love that last line.
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Thank you, Sue! I am glad you liked the sound and the last line. Thanks for the prompts!
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Thanks for being part of them, Frank 🙂 The photos are silent witnesses to a moment until imagination gives them a voice.
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The rhythm is contagious!
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Thank you, Jilly!
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A place to call home is sacred ground ~ Very welcoming to the changing tides ~
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Yes, it is. Thank you, Grace!
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Enjoyed this poem very much…I’ll have to check the prompt…a favourite line: “like plants that cuddle sheltered by the cracks from waves of water, air and other life.”
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Thank you! I see those plants in Sue Vincent’s photo braving an existence on those rocks.
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It is amazing that no matter what the conditions there is a form of plant life.
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I love the flow and imagery, Frank. A place I could call Home!
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It does seem peaceful even though I am sure there are trying days. Thank you, Angela!
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There are most definitely trying days. It’s worth the work, though, if it’s meant to last. Thank you, Frank.
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love the rhythm and beat in this, Frank
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Thank you, Candy!
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Great! The repetition and rolling rhythm in the two paragraphs emphasize the place’s feel. Its bleakness, its beauty. And I like how you were so in tune that you knew, “It’s glad to serve as ground.” That is harmony.
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Thank you, Amaya. I am glad you liked that part. And thank you for the jazz prompt.
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A sacred home glad to serve as ground. I love the flow and pace of this. Good job!
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Yes, that is the message: “A sacred home glad to serve as ground.” I like how you phrased it. Thanks, Vivian!
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You’re welcome!
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the ending is pure Donne – a perfectly lovely paradox
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I like the tension in a paradox. Thank you, Laura!
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Some may not like where others are, perhaps it’s not their home. Nice poem.
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There are many different homes and that makes for variety. Thank you, Mary!
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What makes for a jazz poem? I didn’t hear much between the lines here but it’s still a great prose poem.
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Thanks, Brendan! I am glad you enjoyed this. I don’t know what a jazz poem is.
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I always wondered why people would want live is such a desolate place. Maybe they like their space and privacy! Interesting post.
Dwight
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I wouldn’t want to live there either. It is too desolate, but the rocks, birds and that sparse vegetation may cherish it as home. Thank you, Dwight!
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I love “its welcome doesnt mind the moving on.”……very cool poem!
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Thank you, Sherry! I am glad you liked that sentence.
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kaykuala
something calls this pure space home
and some proclaim this home a sacred place.
Can one be faulted that a home is considered sacred?
Hank
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Home should be a sacred space, as I see it, as well as other places perhaps more broadly communal. Thank you, Hank!
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This piece really compliments the picture, Frank. Well done.
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Thank you, Robbie! Sue’s photo did inspire the writing.
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Home, for all its imperfections, is indeed the best place to be.
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It is our center and how we see the rest of reality. Thank you, Imelda!
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It took me a second read, but I feel the rhythm high and lows like the scale of a jazz melody line. A great portrayal of the places we call home!
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The poem is too cryptic for my taste, but I am glad you read it twice. It is about home and what seems like home to some may seem bleak to others. Thanks, Frank!
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“It’s bleak but something calls this pure space home and some proclaim this home a sacred place.”
-love the perspective-shift of the ending.
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I’m glad you liked that ending. Thank you!
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Rock oF Life
Ground of Grains
Mountains oF LoVE
LiVE
Stand
uPoN
Seeds of Sand
BlooMinG uS..:)
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I like how they are blooming us. Thank you, Fred!
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SMiLes mY
FriEnd.. A
Best pArT
oF Humanity
Is We Can And
WiLL Change
Colors oF
OuR FloWeRs
@Relative Free Will..
A Dance and Song Helps..:)
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