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Be still and know I AM. Know I AM and be still. Reposting this from the archives because my words have been stilled this week. ********** But now thoughts travel. I remember silence across miles. A bench seat center. Knee to . . . → Read More: Love and Stillness (Reposting this from October because it just seems fitting today.) Lyla Lindquist is celebrating, too. Be sure to join the party at her place. And we’re celebrating with Jennifer over at Getting Down with Jesus.
SUNRISE by Megan Willome It’s disgraceful All this color Splattered Pink flung . . . → Read More: Time Out to Celebrate Megan
I planned to skip today. I mean, celebrating my birthday with the one who gave me birth being gone now two days shy of only two months just seemed–well, too hard. I even stripped my birthdate off my Facebook profile so it could pass quietly. I tried to share my feelings with one family member–perhaps not very . . . → Read More: Because it’s My Birthday: Horseshoe Lake (revisited)
Unravel the day in solferino rivers that flow to Eden’s cor. Unzip my skin, unwrap lacustrine heart beside the Horseshoe, my world’s waters, and let me simply drink of Adam’s ale. Inspired by the morning sky. Not adequately captured by The Droid. . . . → Read More: Lacustrine Heart
I held you captive in my sight While you focused on the light You pulled strings, made magic sleight
I hover over her squint at tilted back and crooked neck. Are you comfortable? She looks up at me. Are you? No. I tug and pull and fluff. How is that– are you comfortable now? She looks up at me. Are you? . . . → Read More: Photoplay From My Back: Comfortable
Nothing left but yellow leaves they fall in earnest now like tears and tumble in the wind. Stripped limps stretch and reach through gray to touch the sun and wait. Hearts ache and break for moments lost to hardened hearts and . . . → Read More: Yellow Leaves
Gray billows of cashmere spun by sacred hands whipped cream piled soft heaven’s comforter.
A simple response to a T.S. Poetry Press call for cashmere poems. Photo taken from . . . → Read More: Cashmere Comforter
SUNRISE by Megan Willome It’s disgraceful All this color Splattered Pink flung Purple creeping Then orange Why orange? The clouds grey as the sun puts on bright clothes Who wastes color like this? Flinging beauty willy-nilly As if everyone would see this sunrise *********************************** Don’t waste His color!
I got an . . . → Read More: Sunday Seasoned Sayings: Sunrise by Megan Willome
How did I end up here wrapped in a circle of poets (I don’t even call myself a poet) where we showed up to taste peaches and wild grapes, to crush the flesh of nectarine and sing fig songs?
How did I end up here . . . → Read More: It Will Not End Up Here |
  Be a deep see diver. Deep See Diving   
    
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Copyright © 2012 Sandra Heska King - All Rights Reserved |
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