The Sunday Muse: Times and Season

For The Sunday Muse prompt #141:

**

Each whirl of the earth
around the Sun’s well
of power and of light
brings us back here.

Like a boat
dragged inexorably
by the rising tide to shore,
the swell of the sea
brings us peace,
to a season of reflecting,
of contemplating and of pause.

Time’s rhythm
like the faint echo
of a distant drumbeat
is welcome whisper
in our ear. Yesterday
left the things
we held dear cracked.
Today is a reminder
to rebuild better.

Awe

For The Sunday Muse Prompt # 128:

**
When Neil and Buzz
reached the top of the world
their feet ensconced
in the very dust
from whence they came they left in awe
at the fragility of things,
at how the pale blue dot
they left behind hung
as though by an invisible thread,
shimmering with the ethereal beauty
of the light lent it by the sun.
Butterflies fluttered
on their insides, their hearts
set free by the joy of seeing
in that place where gravity fades.

** Finally posted after hours of fiddling about with WordPress’ new block editor.. Fair to say I deeply resent being forced to use it… 😦

One

For The Sunday Muse Prompt #124:

**
The King surveys his
realm, from his perch high atop
a dry, wizened tree.

This is what freedom
is, to roam without a care
and be one with the
earth.

Light

For The Sunday Muse prompt #123:

**

Even in the darkness
the beauty of lent light
shines through, the golden
petals of the sunflowers
magnificent as they follow
the sun. Beauty, hitherto
hidden, is called out
by the sharing of the light,
the sum of its parts
many times more brilliant
than when it hides alone.

Prodigality

For The Sunday Muse prompt #122:

**
We have carried
our bodies to a far country,
the weight of the burden
of the duty of sons
driving us like a ship
heave-hoing in a stormy gale
to the place where our kin
were brought before.

Each day we toil
amongst the living
to save the ones
we hurt by leaving,
the labour of our bent backs
a libation poured on dry earth,
to appease the spirits
of the old ones. This
is our penance, a prayer
sung to the tune
of the songs handed down.

We the born, and those
who were borne
will someday shake
the shackles of shiny things
and like prodigals
find our way home.

Hope

For The Sunday Muse prompt #121. After Emily Dickinson.

**
Hope is the thing
that shimmers
in the distance
the faint light
flickering in the
brooding stillness
of the afternoon heat,
the persistent promise
that this thirst, this
longing for restoring
will be sated by rain.
It is the pulse
quickening with the
lengthening shadows
of evening and the
return of familiar
sights to the eyes.
It is home
calling the lost son
to return to the
dangerous duty
of tending.

Weight

For The Sunday Muse prompt #120,  and B who in (wo)manfully wrestling pain to a standstill reminds us to hope again…

**
Remember, in
the failing light
of falling night,
when the weight
of the world feels
like a thing around
your neck, that
we see you, proud
against the night-
feet planted firmly
in the mushy earth,
unflinching
in the maelstrom.
Like the North Star
sometimes hidden,
sometimes peering out
from behind the clouds,
a beacon showing home
we see you and believe
again.

One

For The Sunday Muse Prompt #119, Artistic Photography Dreamlike Portrait Photography by Damien Casals:

**
You and I
are becoming one,
our unspoken words
a voice, mellow
in its timbre,
its echo light
like a soft hand
yet firm, kneading out
the noise from
the silence that we share.
In that silence
of being and being present,
of returning and reforming,
of holding out against
the pressure of the world,
are broken things
becoming whole again,
each breath a small victory
won by persistence,
a fresh shoot
pushing its way
through the things
that rage has razed.

Water

For The Sunday Muse prompt #118:

**
In the chaos of
water meeting water and
breaking free, each splash

a hop of joy freed
to twirl and twist and kick and
be, a body bent

fluidly flowing
like a shout of delirious
joy, life echoes.

Breathe

For The Sunday Muse prompt #117:

**
Breathe,
in spite of beauty,
in spite of the frailty
of the blue orb floating free
beneath your feet,
stunning you.

Breathe,
because of beauty
because the earth hugs you
like a mother tethers
her unborn child
fragile in its parts
guiding, calling, growing
feeding.

Breathe,
because home centres you
because wherever you are
times and seasons are locked
in an eternal dance

Breathe,
because.