For NaPoWriMo: Day 16
No longer plan specific destination
for each day. What comes, happens.
On the good days, I simply feel
nearer to the me I wish to be.
Words slip and slide smoothly
over paper and colors are friends
that happily rush to describe a world
only I can imagine. Filled with
rainbows, sunlight. A space where
feelings are hawks soaring against
billowing clouds, and laughter ripples
outward, like waves in cool clear water.
On bad days, color and words disappear.
Can’t even begin to explain thorny brambles
that hedge me round, inside a world
of brooding silence, where slightest sound
causes involuntary startled response.
Elizabeth Crawford 4/16/16
Notes: The prompt was to describe good vs bad days.
The image is a photograph. Taken several years ago, at a place called Dave’s Falls. It’s a favorite and I think of it as sacred ground.