I love to walk, to walk among the trails I find in my mind, they often remind me of the trails I find, when out in the forest entering into a blissful state of love combined.
I always wonder, is there anything more pulchritudinous than mother nature?
I keep walking deep into the unending route, I feel an unspoken warmth from the dark tall trees underneath.
Little I go on ahead bracing breeze kisses my face, as a chilled emotion rushes into my heart.
I stand still and enjoy the trees embrace.
Get to hear soothing sounds, pondering, if the sea is somewhere around.
Ambled with a bit of excitement I walked ahead; admired the waves play, little I came closer, saw the setting sun bidding me goodbye.
As I revel in the landscape, and fiery sky one last time, it occurs to me to rub my eyes, and prepare for a lullaby.
Sung softly and sweetly, by the trees surrounded, as they shift and swing in the breeze, and deep down, I feel something move, and within a smile parts my face as I revel in all that’s known today.
I am honored to share this collaboration between Soni, of Soni’s thoughts, and myself. Soni also drew the art, which was another of the amazing gifts Soni created for those that placed in the top 8 (of a host of amazingly talented and inspirational writers) of Soni’s Writing Contest. A lovely collaboration, and a wonderfully inspirational friend, is Soni.
Full of curiosity, and hope, which bespoke a quadril of smoke
in their eyes,
as they look up, considering a host of possibilities,
which some may deem a masterstroke, and others?
A practical joke.
As I pondered this week’s WDYS #85 prompt from Keep it Alive, by Sadje, I reflected upon our family cat, Whiskers, who still resides with my ex-wife.
I did not have a cat growing up, so when we got Whiskers, I remember watching as she continuously scaled the (un)scalable, thus, masterstroke, and also devoured, well, food, that was not part of her diet.
For example, Whiskers once ate some left over pizza that had been left out. I found this out on my way to the bathroom in the middle of the night by stumbling across the completely empty storage bag, thus, practical joke.
Magical density perplexes the mind, and all of it’s fantastical notions of worldly subsistence, arriving one after another, in a wonderfully elaborate alien formation.
Cloaking to be concealed, striving to imitate the chameleon that no mishape be revealed.
All creatures hunger for a home, Chimera hungers too, yet doomed to roam a lonely existence within those that know the difference, between the magic in the unseen, while others remained concealed and perplexed by the fantasy roamed ruth.
A being not of here nor there, with segments that do not arrange, a miscellaneous kit.
Everytime it tries, as best it may, to camouflage an offending section, knowing that if seen in the light of day, the result prophesied to be rejection.
Ah, the detection that do insue, yet, there is another way, while you pray and look through your dismay, remember the light is yours to behold, while you hold tight to the known.
Authentically embodies his maker’s creation sown, grandly observing from the creatures monumental thrown; chanting in the kingdom of obscure overlapping dimensional zones.