The sorcerers staff and the wise child

April 17, 2021 ~ ~M ~ 2 Comments

With firmly shut eyes
and a flick of her wrist,
the incantation rolled easily
off the tip of her tongue.

And as she spoke
those gracious words,
a magical menagerie
of spinning sparks
flickered to life
in pulsating dances
radiating their resplendence
for all the world to see.

It was an unforgettable spectacle
worthy of wonder
which, would ultimately change
the course of time.

Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/sparkler-firework-celebrate-1835387/

Writing prompt: The sorcerers staff and the wise child

Jumbled like Jenga

July 30, 2020July 30, 2020 ~ ~M ~ 16 Comments

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Cardboard boxes
End to end
Will I ever see
This floor again

Jumbled like Jenga
Teetering towers
At this point I’ve got
Superpowers

Lifting, squatting,
Moving mountains
Nothing else rhymes
Except for fountains

Dizzy from exertion
I could really use a break
But my will isn’t willing
To negotiate

I’ve gotta get this done
No time to waste
Cause right now I’m feeling
So displaced

And once this is finished
I’ll have me some fun
For I’ll have earned my day
Of sitting in the sun

Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/box-memories-photos-books-1209969/

Trusting

July 10, 2020 ~ ~M ~ 10 Comments

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I’m trusting you
For the time I’m here
Please don’t fail me now
Just steer me clear
I need your help
To guide my way
Oh God please show me
What to do and say

The Dream

March 6, 2020March 4, 2020 ~ ~M ~ 7 Comments

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Once lost on the cusp
of a whisper in time,
is now something cultivated,
formed and fashioned.

Evidence composed
of a sacred memory.

Sprinkled with the essence
of a divine creator.

Recorded as proof
that our existence
has never been limited
to the meager
constraints of this world.

But instead,
“The Dream,”
that wonderful, beautiful dream,
goes far beyond…

Far beyond anything
we could ever imagine.

Photo credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/fantasy-landscape-cave-sun-light-2945514/

The enemy’s weapon of choice

February 23, 2020 ~ ~M ~ 5 Comments

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I continue to waste minutes
days…
even years.

Why?
Why do I continue?
And yet here I sit.
Pondering…
More pondering…
Until I’m near to tears.

And all those things ―
the ones the enemy knows
will pierce my heart.

He sends them my way…

Again, why?
Why is this world allowed
to be ruled by such evil?

If I were a god,
I’d do away with all of it.
Does it give pleasure to the almighty,
to see us suffer?

Sharp objects like daggers,
of course they hurt.
But it’s the soft-edged blade,
the one that slips between my ribs,
the one I never even notice
until it’s too late.
This is the enemy’s weapon of choice,
the one that devastates my heart.
And the damage is irreparable.