For The Sunday Whirl poetry prompt: Wordle #102
Wild Things of Inspiration
Menacing clouds hovered just above flat horizon
occasionally punctured by lightning bolts,
almost as if a spiteful minor deity, locked in rage,
must repeatedly thrust his crooked staff of office
at whatever he assumes causes his anger.
After storm peaks, moon rises to powder dark
petals with bits of light that dance like dozens
of tiny prisms amidst stones and blossoms
which border small cement patio.
Lost in reverie, she recalls what Natalie Goldberg
has written about how the writer must dig a deep
pit, climb down in it, then call all the wild
creatures down there with her.
She picks up her pen and begins to tell story
of the spiteful minor deity she once called
Elizabeth Crawford 3/31/13
This is the result of a number of things. The wordlist and how it reminded me of what Natalie Goldberg wrote, a few more words and a phrase (opening line) given out by the small writing group I have joined, and some “reverie” of my own.