They live in wisdom who see themselves in all and all in them, whose love for the Lord of Love has consumed every selfish desire and sense craving tormenting the heart.¹
This pair of stones once pointed tall, but now they’re near the ground. It doesn’t matter where they lay. May our ears hear what they would say with love without a sound.
Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these.”²
¹Bhagavad Gita 2.55, Eknath Easwaran translator.
²Gospel of Mark 12:30-31, New International Version
Text: Linked to Sue Vincent’s fallen #writephoto prompt. Also linked to dVerse Meeting the Bar. Amaya challenges us to take two quotes from two different sources. Use one to begin the poem and the other to end it. I might be stretching this bridge building to think I can meet both of these prompts with one post.
Photo: This is Sue Vincent’s photo provided for use with her #writephoto prompt.
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.
The arc’s reflection made an eye.
They laughed when I asked, “Can it see?”
What’s looking at us walking by
May laugh and measure differently.
The dark might have its ways to know
A brighter truth that it won’t show.
Let us walk. I do not mind.
I hope those eyes like what they find.
Why would someone build a castle there
Where soil is scarce and little wants to grow
Except for moss and plants who only care
I do not trample on them as I go?
Why do I bother making secrets show,
Break down their walls, expose some inner thing,
Pretend this makes me worthy to be king?
Linked to Sue Vincent’s #writephoto who also provided the photo.
A sweet maiden frolicked in the fairy glen by its flowing waters swatting mosquitoes.
A brave knight saw her and halted his steed. “Fair maiden, you wander in the enchanted glen. Did mosquitoes bite you?”
“Many have tasted my innocent blood. Many have I dispatched to their fiendish hell. I trust, sir knight, you have returned with glorious kills from the Draconis Mountains?”
“That is true, fair maiden. The dragons who haunt those heights have breaths so foul they have long addled the souls of many a woeful warrior but I have succeeded where others have failed.” The knight dismounted. He reached into his bag and produced a bottle of Fairy Godmother’s Feisty Mosquito Repellent. “It’s the best on the market and it’s only $3.49 today.”
The maiden carefully scanned the many reviews on her phone. “Almost five stars and a better price. I’ll take two bottles.” She opened her bag and produced a bottle of Merlin’s Dragon Breath Neutralizer. “It’s only $6.98 today.”
The knight eagerly bought a bottle and they lived happily ever after.
After Michael saw the ghost he understood. What he understood he would not say. True knowledge should not be made so literal that any monkey could understand it.
Anne sympathized with him but she thought his deranged prefrontal whatchamacallit generated the ghost. Otherwise why was he locked up with her?
Michael told her she could escape with him through the skylight of the cell. Anne said she would consider it. That was the only reason Michael told the ghost to wait.
Text: Linked to Sue Vincent’s #writephoto .
It is now also Story 100 in Christopher Fielden’s 81 Words, a project attempting to “set a Guinness World Record for the most contributing authors published in an anthology”. They have 102 stories so far and need 898 more as of 8:38 AM CST today.
Photo: Sue Vincent provided the photo for the prompt.
Rain is wet like water,
Not so hard as ice,
Not so hot my hand gets hot,
Messy, mostly nice.
The Sun thinks clouds are funny.
They block the warmth of day
Making fantasies up high–
Carousels turn in the sky–
Friendly, flowing play.
Text: Linked to dVerse Poetics. Lillian is hosting and the theme is to put a positive spin on “rain”, “rein” or “reign”. I am also linking this to Sue Vincent’s #writephoto prompt. Come join us in writing for these prompts.
Photo: Sue Vincent provided the photo for the #writephoto prompt.
Even a thick, stone wall can have an opening letting light through like a window with a rock-hard frame. Outside our window two cars stopped. The front car was undamaged. The front bumper of the rear car, however, hung almost to the ground which made the accident look worse than it was.
Standing on the grass a sixteen-year-old girl watched an older woman, the driver of the front car, examine the damages. Her brother stood by her side ready to act if there was anything he needed to do, but there wasn’t much he could do.
A third car arrived. A second woman stepped out and the two adults talked. The second woman gave the first her insurance information and then she walked to her daughter. One could sense the daughter’s tears hiding behind her eyes and deepening frown. I imagine she wanted to know what was so wrong with her that she could have unintentionally and unexpectedly damaged her family.
Her mother’s arms opened and wrapped themselves around her daughter. Now we all have these openings, if we want to use them, but sometimes, perhaps because the fairy tales we tell ourselves aren’t real, we do not think we do. Anyway, without demanding an explanation, the mother emptied the tears hiding in her daughter’s heart through the opening of her own.