Call To Resistance

For Sunday’s Whirligig: Wordle #94
http://sundayswhirligig.blogspot.com/

slip, well, grief, turning, place, breathe,
source, glimmering, coins, thrown, something, still

For The Sunday Whirl: Wordle #282
https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/

water, sense, peak, draw, blue, wake,
circle, singe, ribbon, stitch, shrill, become

For Poets United: Poetry Pantry #336
http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/

homeoffice-dscn4457

Call to Resistance

Senses stilled in this place of grief,
awaken only slowly. Watch glimmering
coins of hope, thrown into wishing well,
slip silently into blue water. Seeking
source of easier breathing, become
something that will turn new page.

Will not singe fingers, but allow them
to stitch together a circle of genuine caring.
Calm shrill call to violence, by drawing a path,
a ribbon-like trail that leads to the peak
of this experience we choose to call
Freedom for all.

Elizabeth Crawford 1/15/2017

Notes: Image is a photo taken at the Botanical Gardens. I used all of the words.

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Single Truth

For The Sunday Whirl: Wordle #281
https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/

reap, single, cheat, feeble, lean, siren,
preen, leap, flee, seal, truth, climb

For Sundays Whirligig: Wordle #93 
http://sundayswhirligig.blogspot.com/

siblings, meek, prowls, spring, inhale, fear,
pressed, remind, sleep, hungry, lamb, wolves

For Poets United: Poetry Pantry #334
http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/

DSCN4038a

Single Truth

Fear might reap sleepless nights, bring
dreams of hungry wolves climbing into
bed with feeble lambs. Prowling, pressing up
against meek siblings inhaling their siren
song of leaping darkness.

Until reminded of single truth. That leanest
light will always cheat whatever night shadows
creep within its surrounding seal of preening
obscurity. Springing forth to clearly define reality
of what only trembling imagination has created.

Elizabeth Crawford 1/8/2017

Notes: I always take a couple of looks at the word lists, before actually proceeding. Somehow the words seem to form themselves into some kind of pattern. When the first line comes, I type it in, and the other words fall into place. I often don’t know where we are going, until we arrive.

Image is a bonfire photo taken in my sister’s backyard. I used all of the words.

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My Wish For 2017

For Creativity Challenge Day 40: Finish
http://1sojournal.wordpress.com

prayer-at-dawn

My Wish For 2017

In early morning mist,

tired traveler

missteps, stumbles

to her knees.

From the dawn’s

darkness,

a hand reaches out,

to help her

to her feet.

Later,

she comes upon

unknown child

shivering in a corner.

Unfolds her old

extra blanket,

gently covering

his shoulders.

Passing on

one kindness

for

another.

Elizabeth Crawford 12/30/2016

Notes: This is the last of the daily prompts for the Creativity Challenge. It has been quite an experience, creating 80 posts in 40 days. But, definitely worth the effort. Thanks to all who participated and hope to see you on the other side of the New Year. What have I learned from all of this? It’s here in this post. One act of kindness can have a tremendous affect on our world. May it always be so.

Image is a digital painting. An accident that happened while playing with colors. It is titled Prayer At Dawn.

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Silence

For Creativity Challenge Day 39: Silence
http://1sojournal.wordpress.com

judy4

Silence

The heart has reasons that reason doesn’t understand.
___Blaise Pascal

Silence
sometimes
speaks.
Quiet
yourself.
Listen
to your heart
beat.
Sound
of life.
A gift
given.
Once.
Hear
blood
as it pumps
through system
beating
its way
to fruition.
Finding
joy,
purpose,
definition
in song
it sings
filling
that well
of
silence.

Elizabeth Crawford 12/29/2016

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A Quiet Foe Is A Dangerous One

For Creativity Challenge Day 38:  Relief
http://1sojournal.wordpress.com

rscn1003a

 A Quiet Foe Is A Dangerous One

What would relief look like
today? A smile, a kind word,
instead of the anger and hatred.

We are divided, standing toe
to toe, hands clenched in fists,
twisted lips spewing filth

at one another.

This is not who we are, nor
who we want to be, and yet
we continue to squabble.

While the Orange man keeps
stirring the pot with one hand,
counting his money with the other,

and laughing at all of us.

We are playing his game
and he is winning. Always
upping the ante on fear.

Let us, instead, quiet ourselves,
turn our backs on him, breathe
deeply, smile at one another, while

remaining absolutely silent.

Elizabeth Crawford 12/28/2016

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Cutting Edge

For Creativity Challenge Day 37: Path
http://1sojournal.wordpress.com

patty1a6a

Cutting Edge

Life is a journey
down innumerable highways,
with even more tangents.
Sometimes ending
in cul-de-sacs, where
footsteps become hollow
impossible echoes
that can’t be followed.

Long ago, I chose to follow
a path of words that continues
to lead me steadily forward.
Gives me freedom to define
my own purpose with
ever-expanding definitions.

Allows me to fly with feathers
of truth, and to take
a four-legged stance
to defend my position.

Keeps me behind a banner
of responsibility that always
accompanies any freedom.
Helps me in seeking truth
I wish to express, and to
uncover the lies that others
might be speaking.

Words have become my only
weapons, and I have learned
to trust bright keen sharpness
hidden within their wisdom.

Elizabeth Crawford 12/27/2016

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Tipping The Turtle

For Creativity Challenge Day 36: Invigorate
http://1sojournal.wordpress.com

A5RKXR Upside down tortoise

Tipping The Turtle

Enervated by too much
Holiday. Mind wants
to flutter and flit around,
stirring up images like
a spoon moving through
thick soup.

Finding it difficult to get
from there to here: this
present moment. Like
a turtle flipped on its
back, unable to right
itself, move forward.

Need an injection of energy,
something to invigorate
my blood stream, instead
of the slow sludge it has
become, willing only to
ooze slowly, or not at all.

Then remember the promises
made, to a world held captive
by fear, tied to a reality
of possibilities of darkened
distress. Pressed from all
directions.

And so I begin, forming words,
sorting thoughts, finding a path
that can be followed. Tipping
turtle back on its feet, tapping
its shell to keep it moving
toward beckoning light and safety.

Elizabeth Crawford 12/26/2016

Notes: I’m the one who chooses these words each day. Thought this was a good one, until I got up this morning and was completely blank. Then Steinbeck’s Grapes of Wrath came into my head. The turtle in the third chapter, moving slowly toward some unknown destination. Like the Joad family, all their possessions piled in that old truck, in search of an unknowable future. In the movie, perhaps for Artistic flair, the truck and the turtle make contact on the highway heading west. The turtle is flipped on its back and slides to the side of the road, a very dangerous reality for the turtle. Having once helped a turtle out of that same situation, the words began to form and I was once again able to move forward. In one Native American Creation story, it is the turtle who comes to the rescue of the Sky Woman who fell from the heavens and rubs mud on the turtle’s back to create the North American continent, otherwise known as Turtle Island.

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