The Mind Loves Wetting (Poetry, Love, Relationships, Wine)
A Gift From The River (Poetry, Nature, Creative Writing, Art)
A Heart Not Taken (Poetry, Spirituality, Self Development, Art)
A Litany of Life (Journal, Poetry, Life Lessons, Relationships, Spirituality)
A Poet’s Journal (Journal, Poetry, Creative Writing)
A Question (Poetry, Nature, Plagiarism)
A Reflection on Righteous Anger (Article, Poetry, Racism)
A Season’s Prayer (Poetry, Life lessons, Spirituality, Christmas, Art)
Can We Give Grace With Our Words? (Article, Inspiration, Awareness, Awakening, Feminism)
Stone after stone he throws into the river,
and the water rippling waves of laughter,
to meet the tiny feet kissing the shoreline.
I, his mother of three years, watch in awe
the sacred gift before me, my son, and a river
that brings me each day a pebble from life.
I swell into an ocean from praise,
“Mama, are you pretty.”
I hear the waves rise and fall,
“Mama, help you.”
I bask in the sunny beaches,
“Mama, cook you.”
I tow motherhood between boats,
“Mama, worry don’t.”
My son is a hurricane on past pain
and leaves me standing…
Bluebells are here, some lowering
their necks downwards as if shy
of admirers, of intruders, of critics.
Some days, a writer feels this way.
Some days, a writer feels this way,
like bluebells stretching their neck
upwards towards the arrival of summer,
where life is a meadow of wild ideas.
Where life is a meadow of wild ideas,
the joy of writing is found again.
Cos’ whether facing down or up
bluebells are a symbol of life phases.
Bluebells are a symbol of life phases,
that it’s okay to lower your head for a rest
or lift your head and show up…
Open the door or windows,
and come in, my dear January.
I want to hear all about it;
your journey to this new year.
I have been sitting and waiting;
Oh! You have brought snow and know
to cover the sounds of distractions.
How you know me well by now.
I looked and looked for you
in the recordings of past fireworks,
where goals and resolutions shot
into the skies of a new beginning.
I touched and touched the aches
hoping to find love in the wounds
charred in the drag of sitting inside,
waiting for the healers to arrive.
I dreamt and dreamt of you
coming in the…
Every heart pray we the same:
I extinguish hurt in flame
and bloom love in my name
now and ever a vow in frame.
Thank you Suntonu and Melissa for the “Holiday Greetings Card” prompt.
The illustration and poem are inspired by the tropical flame tree found in my native country Tanzania. December is the month that these trees are in full blossom, giving a Christmassy feel. The strong red flowers and green leaves are the perfect combination for a natural Christmas tree and it is dubbed ‘Christmas tree’ by Tanzanians. …
A heart not taken by love
is a road of possibilities.
This path of potentials
is where the soul walks
to converge with spirit.
Sometimes the emptiness
will seek the why to love.
Sometimes it will puddle
in a pond of hurtful past.
Sometimes dressed in care
blooms it to a wedding feast.
As you sit down weighed
in the journey of this life,
put away the bulldozers.
Fate is not on a clear path
so tell your potential heart,
“Walk where love lives or not.”
Thank you to Suntonu Bhadra for the fun space to contribute and Previous Prompt…