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Wind. ‘Twas forecasted, predicted. Blowing here, raining there Wetting foreign soil, But drying, drying This desert land. ~ Wind. Parching. Lifting leaves to dance, to fly Free from bounds Of tired plants, No sustenance left to offer. ~ Wind. Trees shed what’s left, Dropping, dropping, Nourishment for other plants In seasons yet to come. ~ Wind. Beckoning the future, “Come.” “Be.” Encouraging the present To move into the past. ~ Open arms wide. Eyes forward. Ride the wind. Step into the storm And know This rain Consecrates The vessel carrying the soul Through fears, years, tears. Absolves Of judgments Made for naught or gain. Cleanses And forgives Mistakes, misdeeds, wiswords. Sanctifies Without regard Through favor and with grace. This rain Delivers The muse, The great I AM. Step into the storm And know This rain. I AM. Do you go there? When you cannot be with me? Do you seek fulfillment In that place I cannot see? Is your other world A better place to be? Go, then. But always, Be.
I breathe, And every little thing Is fresh and new Again. I like that fact.
Allusion to Persona, Carefully honed façade, Oppressive. ‘Elusion’ of the glare and Others’ clear sight, Imperative. Reputation’s risked. Hopes and dreams at stake. The threat: Reality. Careful observation would illuminate the truth. The image people love: Illusion. Disclosure, loss of luster, verity revealed, Risky. Can’t have that. What would the People read on Friday? Inspired by Three Word Wednesday...Glare, Luster, Threat |
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