September 22, 2012 Sunday Whirl Wordle #75

(The mountains south of Taos, NM)

Burn Site
It is winter
I sort through the ashes of my life
Remember the storms past
And yet…I remain

All is quiet
Waiting with expectation
Each day a short climb
Bundles of ideas in every corner
Thunderbolts light the landscape in all directions

You bring joy to me
Trapped in the desert
Where all is dry, nothing damp
We are but husks of our former selves
Rustle like dry stalks in the corn fields
Sounds heard in hot summer wind
I might be shook up by this thought
Were it not true

February 11, 2012 Sunday Whirl

Sunday Whirl

 

Wordle #43

Sundown

No Time for Weeping

I ransacked through

Long held hopes and dreams

The vision is a blur

The future wrapped in fog

Lucky charms hang from my belt

I interview myself

Place stickers on dreams

To be folded and kept

I confide confidentially

I would trade all the customers

For one who understands

No time for weeping

What is done is done

It hangs before you

January 22, 2011 Sunday Whirl

Wordle  Sunday Whirl #40

Ashes and Red Out Poker

Small ashen clouds

Scattered in early morning sky

Like shards of tea leaves

Found in the bottom of a cup

Whisper hopes and dreams

Of young girls

Telling stories

Sisters with a knack

For charming lies

Scalding the heart

Of a young lover

Crush the instinct

For carnal urges

January 15, 2011 Sunday Whirl

winter-pond wordle

Wordle #39

Promise of Spring
Bear is not vain
Chooses winter to be dormant
Kneeling in her cave
Padding the surface with soft grasses
Sleep away the winter
In the depth of her cave
All is still
Still life

Time to reflect
To contemplate
Fresh crisp greens of spring
Dotted along the river
Home of the salmon
Resolution
To reel in as many as she can

In Spring
She looks across the broad meadow
A spectacle that is new
A promise

Sunday August 7, 2011 A Handful of Stones/Sunday Whirl/ Carry On Tuesday

The rain turned a lovely shade of pink

“Walking Rain”

Sunset of Gold

A handful of stones: Several daily observations.

The late afternoon becomes the master’s canvas.  In the last image there is the moon in the sky and it seems, below there is a light acting as echo.  It seems to be something about the “joining of heaven and earth.”  Native people could see this when they came to the edge of a stream and saw the sparkling mica in the water, they said it  was “joining heaven and earth.”

_______________

Sunday Wordle

http://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/

Little Girl’s Favorite Thing

Was to sweep

In the morning she would begin sweeping

Swept the sun on its journey through the day

Swept the cement walk

Swept away the rusty nails

Swept the path for crawling prophets

Tenderly she swept away the torment of scars

Made notes of all that needed to be swept

One day she swept herself away

__________

Carry On Tuesday #117 Prompt:  Rupert Brooke’s poem.  The opening line “If I should die, think only this of me.”

http://carryontuesdayprompt.blogspot.com/2011/08/your-prompt-for-tuesday-august-9th-this.html

Woman Sweeps a Path

She Sweeps a Path of  Her Own

The poem began

“If I should die”

And I thought

Not “if” but “when” I die

For I will

It is so for each of us

The day draws nearer

I hope you will

“Think this of me”

She walked a narrow path

Of her own choosing

Followed no words of man

Gave her best

To all she met on the trail

Asked no more than

She was willing to give

Looked for beauty in each day

Her heart full of joy

Lived each day in gratitude

For the many gifts of life

Especially for you