#Soar #writephoto

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Photo Credit: Sue Vincent

Soar

I dreamt of the voice shuttered

tight against the storm. Words

held behind the clouded window, urgent

We are here!

Blue feathers lined in black resting

in sunlit trees. Impossibly large

No, they cannot be mine

I doubted the impossible

stroking the membrane of the quill

so many gathered stories filling

the space beneath, calling

through the echo of time

wondering why the throat

is like a storm cloud waiting to break

open to the sun. Wondering why

space needs to be confined and the bird

of truth lies in wait

for permission to soar

 

Once again, I had a feeling that Sue’s photo would echo my dreams. For Sue’s #writephoto writing prompt,#Soar.

Imagining A World Made New #poetry

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I’m trying to imagine a world made new

A riptide of dis(ease) softening into rebirth as seven

billion people grow golden filaments

around the darkness of our womb. At night

I claw dirt back into Her body

to know the heartbeat wrapped inside the winged

Release the tired shoulders, She whispers, you

who have learned to wear blades

 seeking to stretch beyond the chrysalis

To Breathe Whole

Arms, ready to release

the heavy weight of fight, trap

 the body collecting pain without permission

You wounded warriors of the light

stamp identity across the heart

pressing the false hold into a battle cry

lodged inside the forgotten throat

Open

the portal to the heart and allow the soul

to shout victory

Darkness is a demon

only if left unexplored. Let the cry loose

Let it soar through the shadowland inside

until it ignites the joy

that is life. Real life

Release those golden threads and weave

the memory

of unity

whole

The Global Heart #poetry

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Photo Credit: Pixabay

I cannot help thinking of the heart

and life’s breath held in separation

A viral wrap, searching for community

opening the return of the forgotten

goddess. She peers green eyes of the forest

through locks of fire. An earthen trunk

rooted to the life lines. Horns tuned

to the stars, bridging the divide

How everyone is feeling

the broken as fear’s seize spreads dis-

ease. Time, collapsing and morphing

twisting minutes too surreal to be real

Too real to be false. Lies breaking the voice

gasping for air through constricted lungs

while she breathes her return, softly beckoning

from the shadows. Can you see me now?

she asks. The key is held in your heart

and all

The Memories of Stone #writephoto #memory

memory
Photo Credit: Sue Vincent

Some say the giants are still here

Their memories held inside the stones

They watch the movement of time

and grimace at our indifference

Some weep for lack of care

Borrowing water from the sky

Our eyes see inert bodies

ravaged by weather and not

the chiseling hand. Yet the eye watches

waiting for the few who wish to spiral inward to stir

memories beyond dimension. The giants seek

the seekers and wait. Feeling the press of footsteps

blindly walking. The push of restless bodies

Listening to “Hurry up.” “Let’s move on”…

to the next best thing. Whatever that is.

They watch. Eyes following too slowly to be caught

Lids, never blinking. Legs tucked into the land

who knows their breath. Their hearts,

held in Her hands pulse the music of the land

She, who never forgets her children

moves love through tired veins to spiral the waiting eye

Forever looking for the one who will stop

and remember.

For Sue Vincent’s #writephoto prompt, #memory 

#Still #writephoto

spring
Photo Credit: Sue Vincent

Still

The body, subject to the mind,

reaches for more, grabbing at an illusion

never realized. It seeks to be sustained by want

collecting treasures to adorn it.

False garments of the self dim the light inside.

The body, subject to the heart,

becomes a vessel of love.

Its hands, stilled from grasping,

hold only peace, and its face

reflects the light of the sun

free to move through its skin

igniting the world around it

like a beacon of hope

 

For Sue Vincent’s weekly #writephoto prompt, #still

 

#Daybreak #writephoto

daybreak
Photo Credit: Sue Vincent

Peace arrives upon the horizon of stillness

and the slow letting go fades into the night

We are creatures of the moon and the sun

howling through the winds and the rain

lashing at fears often unfound

we seek the light as though it were

illusive. Stretching our filaments in surrender

the body breaks open to become the sky

The mind, woven in wonder gives way

to the passage. And the voice, that howling

gnashing voice screeching to be heard

becomes the wind. And you

and I, we become the one

crimson wrapping gold

and everything in between

our ocean of light softly surging

and collapsing into the fold

we rock to the music of stars

and find that we were never

forgotten

 

For Sue Vincent’s #writephoto prompt #Daybreak

“First Woman”: A Solstice Dream

 

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Photo Credit: Pixabay

First Woman

You may call her Eve

but I knew her as Melissa

The first woman born of her clay

write her story, they whispered

and so I do, following the trace

of her line. The curve of the body

born supine to face the sun

my eyes, watching the slow unwrap

of the goddess. A womb like a hive

my mind, pulled toward the drones

anxious in the hurry to follow a crowd

to nowhere. I turn back

relearning the slow unfolding

of woman. The mother skin lifting

its mold. I watch her smooth the lines

so slowly I am pained by the thought

that we will be left behind. But she

cares not of the train rushing

to the forgetting land. Her fingers

the mystery I need to remember

how carefully she births self

without division and smooths the folds

until lines become curves

until there is no beginning

and no ending

she just is.

Salt Bath #poetry

 

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Photo Credit: Sue Vincent

I slipped into the water to find my soul

mirrored in the well of my belly

So this is where the scryers went, I thought,

to the stones heaved out of the body

of the Mother. Hands chiseling the hollow

to her womb. I could see time

collapsing inside of me. My eyes peering

to find the umbilicus, weaving the thread

that joins the memory of rocks to bone

My mouth tasted the salt of blood

Her water, also mine

and I knew home through the risen

mound. The pull of life forever

rocking the beat of her heart

and the self, never lost

bathed in love

Winter Calling #Calling #writephoto

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Photo Credit: Sue Vincent

Strength reigns through the barren land

of naked limbs exposed to time

Without adornment horns lift the true

self and eyes peer through darkness

to find life in stillness. What would be frozen

softly beats the heart’s calling

stirring the fire inside that never dies

it waits with patience for the touch

of green renewal to shake the cold

world back to life

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For Sue Vincent’s weekly #writephoto challenge. Interestingly, as I sat down to write about her photo, I glanced over at my teacup and noticed I had also chosen a stag/ reindeer for the morning. 

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The Copper Doorway #WritePhoto

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Photo Credit: Sue Vincent

The Copper Doorway

If you think death waits

for you at the end

of the long road

oh weary traveler, turn

back into the tunnel of darkness

to sweep the membrane clean

 In the black space hear the symphony

of life surrounding you and the Mother’s

breath singing the leaves

back into her body

 

For Sue Vincent’s weekly #writephoto prompt. To participate, click here

 

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