The morning Sun begins to rise
As dawn rebirths the light.
Those colors I remember well.
They leave the dark with night.
When I awake I sense surprise -
Another day to see,
Another chance to get it right
Or not if that should be.
Linked to K’lee and Dale’s Cosmic Photo Challenge. Also linked to dVerse Quadrille wbere Merril is hosting with the word “rise”.
I can imagine the despair of the Israelites fleeing Egypt only to be trapped by the Red Sea. We forget that even what’s ordinary like fleeing from slavery or building a home is ultimately outside our abilities. Our efforts bring heartbreak. As we walk submission and obedience permit those seas to be parted.
The beauty of the impossible is that we cannot walk through walls of water on our own. We have to allow the love that is stronger than the universe to open the door.
Happy Passover - Happy Easter
Linked to dVerse Open Link Night as aphoristic prose poetry.
Ah! Spring! A time to forget how winter made us long for you.
Linked to Linda G. Hill’s One-Liner Wednesday.
The she-bird sang her secret reveries
While I, moon-blown, searched the ringéd-seas.
Deep waters drummed my heaven-circling pleas
Awash with water-spoken mysteries.
Linked to dVerse Poetics where Laura Bloomsbury hosts with the theme of compound words used by Dylan Thomas. I picked “moon-blown”, “she-bird”, “ringed-sea”, “heaven-circling” and “water-spoken”.
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Ryan pontificated.
“We’re all beggars. We all depend on a handout, on something going right once in a great while.”
“Not all of us. Some of us can choose.”
“You know you’re a beggar just like I am.”
“Nope. I can choose.”
“What can you choose?”
“I can choose to sit right here.”
That’s when they saw Hawkins, a policeman, approach.
“I wonder what he wants?”
“You know what he wants.”
Hawkins stopped. “OK, guys, it’s 10 o’clock. Time for both of you to go to the shelter.”
“I get top bunk.”
“No, you don’t.”
Linked to Carrot Ranch with the constraint for this week's 99-word stories to be to use the phrase "beggars can't be choosers".
Words would try to touch the heart of it.
They vaguely churn weak hopes that that will do.
Doing so is but a part of it.
Experts draw and make a chart of it,
Push away what clearly won’t go through.
Words would try to touch the heart of it.
The sound of words, a pleasing start of it,
May tease with pleasure seeking what is true.
Doing so is but a part of it.
Fancy words entail what's smart in it
And fool us with a wave of wisdom, too.
Words would try to touch the heart of it.
Guilt appears like broken art in it,
Displays a glimpse of past for us to rue.
Doing so is but a part of it.
So, come, forgiveness, fill your cart with it.
Keep the future open to what’s new.
Words would try to touch the heart of it,
But love protects the deepest part of it.
A villanelle linked to Sarah’s Forms for All and dVerse Meeting the Bar where Grace is hosting with the theme of rhyme and slant rhyme.
Also linked to Debbie Roth’s Forgiving Fridays.
I’m not even aware of all the stuff I take for granted.
Linked to Linda G. Hill’s One-Liner Wednesday.
The water's calm but storms approach.
Their clouds will soon be high.
With future fresh and past well-spent
The birds play with the sky.
Linked to dVerse Poetics where Linda Lee Lyberg is hosting with the theme “life sustaining water”.
As long as it’s impossible
I’ll try it if you ask.
Guide my hands and calm my mind
And carry out the task.
Linked to K’lee and Dale’s Cosmic Photo Challenge with the theme “state of the art”. I offer photos of what might be considered, perhaps not by the lizards, as state of the art lizard living quarters.
Poetry, Short Prose and Walking 