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Dancing on that gleaming edge
Folder:
Flashback Fridays
I stepped
within your mind
on a winding path,
amongst soaring peaks
and jagged crags.
Dizzy,
I can barely breath.
Faint sounds
of fluttering wings
muffle my hearing;
and each step stirs
a fine dust of ashes
that swirl
in the dappled light,
dazzling and beautiful,
and I realize
that every cut
from a samurai sword
is a clean one.
This Is You
Internally questing, declare a poignant truth in a nowish conclusion. Sometimes the road is sunless, but our creativity bouys us, in our own minds we scale mountains, hear vultures in search of carrion, yet clouds scatter before the poet's breath. we have words to paint the sky less pale, less sword spliced. Come home to comfort for Thanksgiving and the rest of the season. Spread joy, no matter the terrain, no matter the internal stresses. You are called to this because you do it so well. Write, poet. Write! ~ Lady A ~
Write the day
write night. See
and say, tell or
unfurl.
.
Write writer,
tell a lifetime
or a piece of time
for raising eyes
up again.
.
Write like a painter
writes with color.
The world has been
chiroscuro far
too long.
.
allets
11-16-19
612a
.