Having a lark while chasing a dream

Credit:   Andre Ermolaev

The others wagered
    that is a mistake

With a flint of steel
   she said No, I had enough

After a decade of numbers
   & files of business meetings-

This feels right & good
   My mistake will be not to give this a chance-

So she took a one-way ticket
    out of city with a single luggage

There are rivers, mellowed safe      
    from childhood

And there is a river that you
    choose over others

It surges
    twisting deeply
                    you fight 
                    to keep it moving

As it flows to an uncertain distant point-
    size of pinhead or crest of mountain top

Ideas leap in your head
    A jar of fireflies, a box of yellow daisies

Some days, you catch light-patterns shifting
    glowing new, a world only lovers see

Sometimes, you see nothing but sands
    & weight of stillness is deafening

Over a bottle of cheap wine
   in a rented motel room, that night

On a lark, you draw 
    monkeys fallin
                          g    from  t r      
                                              e e                  
                                                    s*  


Posted for D'verse Poets Pub -  Poetics:  Even Monkeys Fall from Trees* - With guest host, CC ~  Thanks for the visit ~

Summer heat, my mind plays trickster

Grace@Everyday Amazing

city bakes in heat
slows river   t i d e
as bikers zip 
     like buzzing b e e s

i lift my head
     for cool  b r e e z e
'tis rain
     of falling  p e t a l s

pinking the grass
her last spring  d a n c e

under tree,  tuck me
minting afternoon's  g l a r e-
'tis oasis   
of blooming  l a v en d e r



Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Quadrille hosted by Bjorn Rudberg  ~  This is a 44 word post with the word BREEZE.   We are back to basking under summer heat, whew!  

Haibun: Riverwood

My mind is a blank canvas this afternoon.   No frame, no ceiling, no door.   I gather wildflowers and mushrooms as I hike.   I draw the small birds hiding behind the lush foliage of trees, their bird songs a call to nature.   Here's the baby chipmunk frolicking across the grass.    The water has dried in some parts of the river trails, and a thick wild life has grown, filled with tall wheat stalks and fallen logs.  

I cup the sounds of the river, its rushing tides beguiling all visitors by its bank.    The water is clear, brownish under the late afternoon sun.   I hear the wild trout and salmon sashaying their bodies down the river currents, into another river, into another lake.   The path is endless, and though I can't follow them, I thread their goodwill into my journey.  I collect all of spring blessings - sky's quiet hush, wind's renewing spirit, tree's welcoming brushstrokes.     I return home, my mind filled with a cornucopia of fruits, bursting of ripeness.

yellow buds, serrated leaves

yarrow, flax & white clover bloom-
    casting shadows away  

   

At Riverwood Trails
Grace@Everyday Amazing

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Haibun Monday, hosted by Kazensakura.     We went for a walk over the weekend and enjoyed the warmth of spring season.  For the complete details of the prompt, please read the full post when we go live at Monday, 3pm EST.

The matriarch

If she was younger, she would be warrior
queen, zealously guarding her family
in times of war & upheaval

If she was even younger, she would be
a tall dark violet beauty with sassy tongue
& drinking hard with the guys

But alas, she was old when I met her
Cursing her gene for a long life
And her mother, still alive, crawling
on floor like a baby in her old age
frightened me and my sisters-

But she is always a warm breast to me
like a tropical sun
nurturing my awkward childish steps
while cursing her wayward sons to behave

They don't listen much to her anymore
but affectionately indulge her
when she tells them about her war-time escapades
It was a long time ago
Long before she became a widow

For time is running out fast
Her eagle eyes are now frail
Her bones are paper-light
And in the end, she was all silver
her feet bundled like a small bird-



Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Character Study, hosted by guest Walter Wojtanik ~  Thanks for the visit ~

Crown of spring

dawn is breaking light
streaking egg-yolk paint 
across sky

green me
pink and red flowers
on rainy spring morning

petal me with dew
maple-gold trimmed by sugar
plum trees

spin me dizzy-blue  
before bees
steal my nectar

& wind 
runs away with my crown

by Grace

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Quadrille - 44 word count with the word GREEN~

Join us when the pub opens at 3pm EST today.  Have a wonderful week ~

The fire beast

A friction, a snap
the beast was awakened 
with fires on its tongue 
hungry for fuel

As dry wind crackled its brows
the sun bellowed 
hotter and meaner 
the beast's appetite grew for 
more & more food

Plumes of smoke covered its body
As he crashed doors & houses to pieces
He knew no boundaries, no fences
With breath drunk with rage  
He scarred the earth blackest of nights

No one can hold back the beast
as he thunder-roared
an ocean of flames
until all were charred dust, a barren land
once more

Some doors are meant 
(not) to be opened-

Picture credit:   Lillian

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Open a new door with me ~  Hosted by Lillian~

Thanks for the visit ~

Early morning walk

Photo:  Grace@Everyday Amazing

In another part of our country, towards the west, a wildfire in Fort McMurray rages on.   People are evacuating and moving to safer towns leaving behind their burning homes.   I think about other cities burning now, not just from wildfires, but from war.    Migrants are still drowning and dying in their journey.   The political conversation across our border (US) is just as nasty with words of hate and destruction.   I walk steadily along path, marveling the weeping willow trees and few magnolia blooms.         

I inhale the cold spring air.   The stress of the workdays and negative thoughts unravel and disappear. My spirit embraces the new season of beginnings.   I see the field dotted with yellow daffodils and birds and baby squirrels leaping behind the bush.  The meadow is greening with dew and evening rain.    I smell pine cones and wet soil ready for seeding. Potted flowers hung from the balconies, welcoming to home. 

cardinals pirouette
as nature gifts me with spring flowers-
my heart is at peace

“Home is everything you can walk to.”

― Jerry Spinelli, Stargirl

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Haibun Monday - Hosted by Bjorn ~  Thanks for the visit ~

Sentiments of the Southwest

you stand

rock carved by wind storms

a solemn cathedral

with a thousand unlit candles-

i am sun-drunk pebble, awed-

Photo credit:   Mish

~0~0~

the clouds drape hymns 

over your moody terrain

rustic-low wind sighs

 as you trace your fingers

along the barren sand dunes

i, raw with rain, bloom in response

Photo credit:   Mish

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Sentiments of the Southwest, hosted by Mish ~   Thanks for the visit ~

When the white-haired man didn't skipped me in the subway line and-

Asked me for money
"I'm hungry-" 

my heart,
hardened with pseudo-beggars
hanging out/side

said No
Then, recalling single
banana in my bag
& while grappling with in/decision

my train arrives
(no-skipping-nor-playing-hooting)

the moment 
like
      teardrop,
             flashing bird-wings,
                      falling cherry bloom
                                                          is lost-

Credit here

Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Quadrille - a post in 44 words exactly with the word SKIP.   I am back after a short break ~  Thanks for the visit ~