rest
True silence is the rest of the mind,
and is to the spirit what sleep is to the body,
nourishment and refreshment.
~ William Penn
response to week thirteen of the solstice to solstice project
with urban.prairie.forest
many wonderful contributions in the flickr pool
response for week 11 of the solstice to solstice project
with urban.prairie.forest.
flickr pool
The sun rose on fields
snow blown and misted
ghostly swirls and dervishes.
No fog this–––
for fog simply lies.
No–––this was living
as it arched and twisted,
fingering out to the road
and reaching for me
like the shade of a beloved friend.
There was white inside,
trying to seep out of pores,
I felt it strain
trying to mesh and meld
with this sentient wraith
fingers touching
joining
and suddenly
I am the morning mist
dancing in the crystal air.
‘Reaching for White’ by Lisa Shields
response to week 10 of the solstice to solstice project
with urban.prairie.forest
please check out all the wonderful contributions in the flickr pool
response to week nine of the solstice to solstice project
at urban.prairie.forest
please visit the many, lovely contributions at the flickr pool
light
this is the light of our childhood winter nights
electric service was unreliable especially in the winter
many times we were without electricity for hours or even days
this light is a witness to countless jigsaw puzzles and books read aloud;
games played and stories told
this light is a connection to those that came before us
to our grandparents, great grandparents and great, great grandparents
little did they know when they carefully packed it to move in 1890
that this light would touch the lives of six generations of our farm family
the original chimney has been replaced
it has a small hole in the top of the fount that has been filled with lead a couple generations back; but to us, this oil lamp is a treasure
this is the light of winter
response to week eight of the solstice to solstice project
at urban.prairie.forest
please visit all the wonderful responses in the flickr pool
slumber
What use is it to slumber here;
Though the heart be sad and weary?
What use is it to slumber here
Though the day rise dark and dreary?
For that mist may break when the sun is high
And this soul forget its sorrow
And the rose ray of the closing day
May promise a brighter tomorrow.
~ Emily Bronte
response to week seven of the solstice to solstice project at urban.prairie.forest
a fifty-two week project focused on the seasons – one word at a time
flickr pool – the solstice to solstice project
A bird has a nest
A fox has a lair
A den is a home
If you’re a bear.
I have a comfortable old chair.
Soft pillowed blue,
a flowered cloud,
The perfect place to read aloud
to myself or silently
letting long words run over me,
letting the stories I have read
make moving pictures in head.
New chairs are nice
but mine is best.
My spot to think in
brood in
rest
to plot in
dream in, many dreams,
to scheme a few outlandish schemes in
Kings need crowns to be the king
but me
I can be anything
any person
anywhere
if I just have my book and chair.
“Comfortable Old Chair” by Karla Kuskin
response to week six of the solstice to solstice project at urban.prairie.forest
a fifty-two week project focused on the seasons – one word at a time
flickr pool – the solstice to solstice project
