 |
| Meaning of beautiful |
Thank you
for lyric and starlight
weaving around my soul.
I dress myself
in the ocean.
I wash my thoughts
in its water
to receive clarity,
to see the beauty
strikes of red, purple,
and white stitched
into the sky.
Longing has
a thousand pathways,
each one ending
in light
in a single flash
of gratitude.
The prompt for Poets and Storytellers United is food as a ritual
Once, every year
in the Netherlands,
three days of funfair,
the air sweet with
sugar-spun laughter and
Dutch potato salad,
creamy and cool,
olives sparkling
like crowns on soft-boiled eggs,
ham folded in silky layers
tomatoes bursting with juice.
Pickles, crisp and tangy,
hanging around hassle-free
in the salad.
Food, a ritual.
All day,
the house hums
with voices and footsteps.
Family arrives,
warm hugs and clinking glasses,
Come in, sit down, share a drink,
taste the salad,
let’s go to the fair,
and drink from the glass of joy.
The prompt for what's going on is fearlessness or courage. This is my call for courage
When the world wanders
down a shadowed path,
forgetting the truth you carry within,
when its hands neglect
the pulse of what matters:
the breath of mother earth,
the thread between hearts
sheltering them
Keep your soul!
Let it roam unguarded
through the meadow of its becoming.
Let the mind sharpen,
yet do not let the world
bend you to its iron ways!
Remember the first light you trusted,
how it asked for nothing,
only to be seen
pure.
Imagine that light still holds you.
It lifts what’s real in you.
until it glows where the night
forgets to look.
And from this, courage comes:
the quiet rising,
the steady step forward
into the sunlit room
of your truth.
The prompt for Poets and storytellers United is "We will invite you to find inspiration in this quote: “The most expensive garment you’ll ever own is your own flesh.”
Bones and light
My body, an expensive garment
a vessel I stitched
with quiet light,
soft fabric worn by time.
A heap of bones, perhaps
but also, two legs that carry me
down winding paths of discovery,
where the wild whispers
my name
My arms, woven to embrace:
to cradle the young,
to steady the old,
to hold the world for a moment.
My mind, a tangle of threads
where I linger, weaving words,
sometimes losing myself
in the knots.
And when this garment is finally worn,
I’ll look back and say:
it was worth every breath,
every step, every touch,
every thought spent,
I'll leave it with gratitude
The prompt for What's Going on is "What makes you feel most alive?"
The tide within
There are moments
my chest warms and opens,
love overflowing,
the red of roses vivid enough
to intoxicate me.
There are moments
when laughter bubbles up
born from the deepest part of me,
the place that loves poetry
and forest paths,
the place with the tide-like curiosity
that combs the shores of the mind.
Light shimmers on that inner lake.
Mystery breathes.
When I touch that place,
my wings lift,
and I play in the symphony
of the universe.
That’s when I feel alive.
The prompt for Poets and Storytellers United is: write about three things you hate and tear them down, and/or three things you love and celebrate them.
Oh, how I hate the greedy ones
those who hunger for a killing,
hoarding the world’s warm layers,
stuffing them into a thousand silent rooms
because they can.
I hate the icy ones
those who let cold water drip
onto the tender heart,
until it shrinks,
starved and shivering
in their winter.
I hate the ones who ignore,
who let you drift like a ghost
through empty corridors of nothingness,
unseen, disconnected,
lost in the mist of disregard.
But I love the generous souls,
those who share their last crumbs of comfort.
Where laughter lingers in the kitchen,
hands pass the potatoes,
leaning close, raining stories,
whispering care.
I love the warm-hearted
those who gather hugs like sunlight,
who unroll love from the sky
like long forgotten promises,
who reach out gentle hands
from the quiet.
I love those who make you feel seen,
who murmur kindness into the world,
who breathe hope into the air,
connecting with their small light,
gifting you a smile
that unrolls from the sky
like a promise remembered.
