Today’s stream-of-consciousness Saturday is an interesting prompt: we are to write about the memories / associations we have with whatever happens to be to our left, when we sit down to write. I was sitting in my back yard and saw a new. little sign in one of the pots in the garden: “Plant a seed and watch it grow.” That was the seed for this post. 🙂
Lungs continue to inflate. Outside, white clouds are Rorschach blots in a sea of sky. The neighbors’ cypress tree is leaning as the wind breathes. Lungs hold their precious breath as birds chip. Lungs let go: Exhale.
notice past preconceptions
a breeze — a shiver
This picture was taken when 11 months ago was “now.”
The décima challenge this week is “Birth” in one of the D rhyme spots. It’s a timely prompt, as it’s April. Last time I went to the park, I noticed a profusion of new flowers and multiple ducklings! Linked also to today’s Writers’ Pantry.
Sun rises earlier each day: It has been hesitant to wake Yet lately decided to make The most of it, a better way.
And later the sun also stays, Shining its rays upon the ground, Illuminating all around. Now this April springtime-green Earth Is filled with blossoms and new birth: Even more beauty will abound.
Today’s official NaPoWriMo prompt is to write a Sijo, which is a traditional Korean poetry form. It’s described as similar to the haiku, but the lines are longer and, to me, it seems more complicated. I like how this turned out but am not sure if it is technically correct. Here is a site that explains in detail how to write one.
My family’s garden has been a frequent source of inspiration lately (and honestly almost every time I go out there), and it fit perfectly with PSU’s Weekly Scribblings prompt, “Bird is the Word.” I am also linking with DVerse OLN.
goldfinch and friends cheep perch and search among the plants: empty bird-feeder
Today’s poem was actually inspired by yesterday’s one-word challenge from Fandango, which was “never.” I guess this also builds off of yesterday’s post, in which I mentioned that we could learn from those strawberry flowers. Here’s something else to learn from them.
I wrote this string of haiku after observing the strawberry plants in my family’s garden. We have many berries growing and a few flowers on the plants.
I wrote this poem, in a way, to the little flower and about them. The interesting thing about them is that, even though there are many fully-grown berries by them, they do not compare themselves, and they never think that they are growing too slowly, nor think of themselves as failures. There are lessons that flowers can teach us, I think. And by “us,” of course I mean “me.”