be still
cling to the mountainside
or bottom of the rushing stream
change comes but if you wait
long enough
the pain will pass
rough edges smoothed
story revealed
of storms weathered
flood endured
sunbaked and wind burned
lines deepened
memories etched
soul remains

unseen we breathed it in
and then back out again
until the fire lived inside
and darkness grew within our hearts
and tore love from inside the parts
of us we held so dear and deep and near
the brightest sun sank in the sea
and no one no where left to flee
a blood red sky knelt down and wept
and all that breathed was quickly swept
up in the raging flames burned all
to ash yesterday’s games a memory
but sadly no one left to see

(from a friend’s photograph)

even the signs
with their sharp edges
cold in the dawn
posts planted deep in concrete

even the smoke
billowing from stacks
where power is forged
to keep away the dark

even the poles
that carry the wires
stretching us from
mile to mile

know to reach for sky
for sun and light
wrapped in cold air
pointing ever upward

so we planted on earth
powerless and stretched
still reach to be carried
higher

the softest touch
of cloud laid against
nights cheek
whisper to blue dreams
wrap all the tired pain
of this day
in seashell pink
lay it down for a time
cradled rest
swaddled like a newborn
brushed by treetops
sleep child
until the sun

photo credit Caspiano Sunrise by Timmie McEachern

give me a pirogue
to where the sun is lazy
and oozes up from the swamp
at it’s own pace
where you can read the past
in the trees
standing in dark water
or stretched out waiting for turtles
to ease up for warmth
where the mist rising
is a quiet morning song
and the fish lurk deep
in the coolness
slapping the boat bottom
indignant at the interruption
of Louisiana dawn

Terri Windling has a winter poetry challenge at her blog at http://windling.typepad.com/blog/

I had hoped to join all week but real life conspired against me. The challenge for today was the fairy tale The Snow Queen and there are beautiful images and plenty to read. This is my contribution.

every line so well thought out
close the door, remove all doubt
erased emotions strewn about
perfection wipes away the pain
what once was out now buried deep
wrapped up in walls, a heart asleep
to feel no pain and never weep
a ruse the only thing you gain

but love pursues as though the fire
sparks tiny light with hope aspire
braves danger, scoffs at warning dire
burns higher through the storm and rain
draws like unto itself and grows
lies patient in the winter blows
till one becomes a million glows
cold’s battle all in vain

melting snow left all alone
feed blooms left where
brightest love has shone

when I was young, my face too thin
my nose too short, my mouth too wide
dictates from the magazines
kept the soul curled deep inside
imprisoned by a silver box
that oft demands perfection
it takes us years to smash the ice
and take a new direction
but once compared I now set free
without a backwards glance
now worlds imagined claim my feet
on softest dreams I dance

Photo was posted on facebook as a prompt – I am not sure of the owner. If you find it here and wish it removed or would like me to give you credit please leave a comment.

Photo Credit Tommy Stone

wisdom where red feathers glean
the tiniest warmth from a setting sun
though dark would steal what once was seen
a beating heart holds what is done
and puffs up downy fluff to keep
a seed of bright and radiant heat
while all around the world does sleep

another year goes rolling by
in dappled sun or tunnel shy
greening spring of bluest sky
loud ticking of the clock
a saddened naked tree torn down
the baby Jesus with His crown
exchanged for winters foolish clown
and February’s shock

I hunker down by roaring fire
pen in hand to poem aspire
while frigid winds send warnings dire
blow faster than they seem
the dreamer sleeps the hours away
and misses words to help him say
and sleeping right on through the day
misses spring times dream

and yet inside reflected flame
unseen world awaits a name
no one could ever set the blame
the dreamer trance will end
then scribbling fast and faster still
thoughts tripping over words and will
real life can never match the thrill
poets inner sight portend

yet here a warning thought be said
one cannot live just in ones head
to keep the art from falling dead
the soul must outward turn
the outer feeds the inner heart
while inner lets the heart depart
embrace the both to make a start
a candles worth is in the burn

the pond must know a secret
it fills a hollow place
beauty mirrored in stillness
quietly waits in grace
weathers drought with patience
faithfully refilled
the pond must know a secret
how did it get so skilled

the pond must know a secret
see all around it grows
it’s silence sings to living things
even the marsh grass knows
the trees are fed and cluster near
cradle nest and fruit and seed
the pond must know a secret
made to be fed and then to feed

Photo Credit Tommy Stone

in winter deep
the colors sleep
beneath the mounded snow
a covered heart
broken apart
heals in the dark below
come greenest spring
the warmth will bring
a rose where thorns would grow

Throw a log on top and
bank the coals
to keep the fire
for dark is coming soon
and watch though
it is barely there
the sweetness at
the bottom of the moon
the smallest detail lined in blue
just shadow, barely seen
reminds us that
in light and dark
the earth would stand between
so we must stand from sun to moon
when pain and sorrow fall
and cast a shadow on the land
be light and hope for all

thank you Ginger for the picture and Tommy for the line….

colors fade
a distant call as rising comes
the grayest fall
of evening shadowed blue and gray
mirrored neath a purple sky
the darkened trees will bend and sway
weighed down by dark
a solemn sight
woods stand brave
a last attempt
moon prevails
sun is spent

Alice showed up late to tea
Mad Hatter ran away
the Red Queen’s off her meds you see
The solitary card was played
Tweedle Dee and Dum are gone
The magic pill was way too strong
and now the drink has spilled about
and all the partygoers flown
there’s nothing left of Cheshire Cat
his grin the last to pop
teapot broken, chairs are listing
table on it’s top
so go now Alice, better run
Find the hole and climb back out
the looking glass was made of ice
and if you stay then frozen too
no happily ever after
no second glance, the choosing done
there’ll be no other chapter

The End

(inspired by the photography of Ginger Cook)

golden molten rays of sun
slip down between the boughs of green
her dragon sleeps curled at her knee
his wispy smokey snoring plays
a bass line to a melody
heard only in her mind and struck
by urgency she dips her quill and scratches
out a tuney tale as forest folk creep
closer still and curl up in the shady dale
and wait for storyteller time
and as she lays her feather down
begins to read they bob their heads
then dance and weave around her rhymes
and as the ending fades away
they slip into the shadowed gloom
the dragon wakes and winks and blinks
the story ended far to soon
but teller hides her parchment well
a hollow in the hawthorn tree
next to a stream so cool and clear
where dragon, deer, and sparrow drink
and rest, a merry tale to hear

photo credit Tommy Stone

You wouldn’t think it
would you?
Seeing the flame of sky
streaking the blue with the heat
of dawn,
that the cold reaches pale fingers
down to naked trees
and even the fish nod
in the frigid deep,
dreaming of jumping
for fireflies under a lazy sun.
Not for now.
You stand on the shore
shivering in the frosty glow
before trudging back
to warmth
and morning coffee.