Beautiful Spillage

Early morning

when energy rises

like the sun slowly

spilling golden pink rays

nourishing the sleeping land with lightening sky,

back-lighting snow capped mountains

spreading magic over quilted prairies

be-jeweling lake countries

awakening treelined streets ~

homes just stirring inside all that silence 

stirring into daylight with restless calm.

“At sunrise everything is luminous but not clear.”

~ Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through it and Other Stories

Hidden from View

      Hidden from View

Emerging slowly 

from the park a tall figure cloaked heavily in black

dark eyes peering cautiously

tall, hunched and quiet

back pack neatly shouldered

male or female?

young or old?

well nourished or gaunt?

only a thick cloak 

of vulnerability and sadness.

“People can be at their most vulnerable, but still tenacious at the same time.”

~ Toni Bernhard

Dry as Dust

Blocked

barred

creativity 

stagnate and dull

my soul dry as dust

creativity scattered by winds

of life’s unpredictable 

roller coaster til my mind casts about for words to craft in phrases poetic or profound.

Seeking the nourishing words 

of other authors a movement

towards at least putting

a grudging shoulder to the blocks to moisten my writer’s soul.

“Who is more to be pitied, a writer bound and gagged by policemen

 or one living in perfect freedom who has nothing to say?”

~ Kurt Vonnegut