Also look out for blog posts by our guest writers this month, on topics such as creativity, writing and mindfulness. Click here to view the guest posts.
Do leave your first small stone of the challenge in the comments below.
"If the doors of perception were cleansed, everything would appear to man as it is, infinite."
~William Blake
245 comments:
1 – 200 of 245 Newer› Newest»the washing machine swirls and whirls,
humming a merry tune as it swooshes away the dirt,
and delivers a load of fresh new beginnings.
It's the stillness of this first day that claims me, wraps me in pellucid tones and the hot breath of summer.
4 a.m., cold. Everyone huddles on the cushions. A man holds his hands in a brittle anjali. A girl watches it all with curious, distant eyes.
(from thus)
The kitchen is quiet now and dark - dressed in used plates, left-over food and half-empty bottles -resplendent in the aftermath of last year's party.
I felt that New Year is just like any other year but the only difference is that we are given a brand new life
As the hot water hits the back of my neck, the downy hairs along my spine rise and fall in a Mexican wave of pleasure.
The sea rages. It reaches out long fingers and scratches blood lines down her leg. But she - she stands at her easel and paints in the shallows. She knows how to quell the tide.
It’s dark but there is the sense that others
Are already awake; sounds from beyond the thick
Velvet drapes and cool cotton covers:
With utmost patience a magpie feeds its chick.
The first day of the new year: a sunday, a rainday.
At half past 7, night still covering the sky. I open the window and hear the call of a blackbird, and a single car.
(& photostone: Neujahr )
three hundred and sixty six days left
to compose one message
for everyone
progress…
???
The sound of a young lady's sports shoes chafing against the asphalt ground during her jog sounds like the crunchy chops of an onion on a wooden board.
morning is wrapped in a thick, ethereal fog
as if we have followed E.T. home after midnight's frenetic cry for newness
silence is the day's motto
a new motto
[2012.1.1...a]
Spruce up
New year's day.
Time for a spruce up on the crazy golf course.
He hoovers away old leaves.
Gives those greens a good sweep.
Happy writing to everyone taking part and have avery Happy New Year.
Cyndi Lauper and the haunting flute melody touches my heart, time after time...
Fog all around, I see only the good the rest is oblivious
In the dark - light bright on computer screen - brighter within - warming cold hands, the softness of red flannel against a throat just slightly sore, no party hats, or champagne, just this simple flannel embrace, eyes softly heavy - ready now - for sweet sleep.
after the party
the mirror ball's stillness
turns our fragmented world
into patterns of light
My own music in the devine brief silence between bell-peals and firecrackers. The pungent cloud of last night still lingers in my voice, but the air in here tastes like clear mountain water.
Small Stones # 1
A buffeted hedge
silent suspended with crowns
of sacrificed heads
http://wp.me/P1zqCM-9L
Tears drop
On the pillow plop
When they finally stop
Peace
The page is turned,
a blank sheet spreads before me.
My pen is poised...
and for a moment time stands still.
I step onto the porch, steaming mug clasped between my hands, to great the predawn day. The wind rushes to meet me, roaring its greeting; tantalizing, invigorating, whispering promises of newness yet again, and caressing my saddened soul. I close my eyes, floating with the whistling of its love song and serenaded by the vigorous tinkle of chimes.
Said goodbye
empty glasses in the sink -
the Dragon roared in!
Happy 2012 - year of the Dragon!
Taking tentative steps forwards,
the first step of a journey,
Towards? Who knows?
I will join the river,
The flow of small stones,
Making my way to the great beyond.
green like emerald depth of the seas
http://mauvesea.wordpress.com/2012/01/01/slowing-down-2/
There is a child somewhere
and people are calling for her.
But her bones are like buried pearls
and there is black dirt over her.
Traditional New Year’s Day -
a feast of music and dance,
colour and audience participation
from Vienna with flowers
relieves the gloom of grey sky in Normandy.
Lids flicker, raw with caffeine and night driving, as wet yolks beneath struggle to soothe
The magnificent sunrise, the blue of the water, the freshness of the breeze and the squawking of the seagulls confirm to me that I need not only the water but vast open spaces.
After two weeks of sickness – my office strewn with Christmas paper, bows, ribbon, coloured tissue, tags – all still forlornly waiting for the party to begin.
the caller id says ‘beverlyhls,ca’ and I just let it ring. I don’t know what to call this day that was my anniversary; I don’t know how to move myself through everything I remember.
heavy rain's peeling
December
off the windowpane
we are another
chilly day
closer to summer
Last week's burgundy Christmas garland loosens its sparkling grip on the sun-drenched terrace railing.
As sun finally rises on the sky
After rain pouring down like a waterfall
Everything become sillhouettes in my eyes
As sun finally rises on the sky
Although it is still covered by the cloud
I walk out to embrace the light
An investigating blackbird tosses aside clumps of grass,
Searching for the elusive insect & deep-buried worm.
He doesn't notice the stalking cat,
Ears like stilts,
On the other side of the glass.
sunday morning
watching politicians
lying on TV...
my exuberant
jumping white puppy
Something has been at the frosted compost; a new year bakes in the rot of the old & the sweet, green scent of decay.
Squirrels dance along unmeasured branches.
Inside, we wrap our hearts in this warm silence, savouring the time together before the return to normal, outside.
Morning dishes fill the sink. Water streams into the blue glass bowl, then arcs up and out...a dishwater Trevi fountain!
[At first I posted at the wrong place... Both here and on Twitter. What's wrong with me?!]
Here I go:
"The sun caresses my eyelashes behind the window, but going out, I regret not putting on a hat. Further down the street, I start regretting not taking a thicker shawl. When on the children’s playground, I regret I went out in the first place."
A Crow Sits Solo
Filed Under: My Poetry by Pam — Leave a comment
January 1, 2012
a crow sits solo
in a bare-branched tree
black against a silvered sky
caw and branch creaking
sighing in a wintery bleakness
Pamela Olson, 1/1/2012
Raindrops dance on a concrete slab, slapping the newly-shined surface in glistening circles.
Solitude
but for a cat at my side
his purrs like the coos of a dove
faint echoes of the tv swirl up the stairs
the smells of fried mushrooms and a balsam candle
mingle and cling to the air
light leaks in through the slats of the white blinds
illuminating the possibility of silence
and the fullness of stillness.
Eyes focus in early morning light, scanning the room, resting on the gallery of a child's art, brightening what could otherwise be a dull awakening. ~
The sky is smudged with grey. Pale noises attempt to distract me but my thoughts are consumed with technicolor wishes for a new year.
The washing machine churns in syncopation to the murmur of conversation and soft music messily weaves all the sounds together.
Wearing the cold,murky puddle which soaks me to the skin.An overcoat of bone-chilling heaviness smelling of old rain.
Wearing the cold,murky puddle which soaks me to the skin.An overcoat of bone-chilling heaviness smelling of old rain.
strewn party poppers
dishwasher full of glasses
a new year begins!
I woke up at noon today, what a luxury! The sheets smooth and cool, the birds fighting over something, and a hungry cat near my ear demanding my attention. Coffee's on!
light warms window
diffuses through lace
touches dirty dishes
kisses cold nose
My first small stone can be found here: http://mylifeincontradictions.blogspot.com/2012/01/river-writing-challenge-day-1.html
I'm excited to join the challenge! Sarah
When the sky turns this colour
I always think of you
And your first floor-length gown
Of a deep midnight blue
Nervously sophisticated
You stood by the door
And you waited
As I sit in the garden, a robin flits around me. The sound of his wings is like a metal sheet against the air - a sound that seems too strong for such a small bird.
Lazy day. Unconvincing sunshine with too-warm-for-winter wind. Golden eggs scrambled with dark green spinach and snowflakes of feta cheese.
returning
i am so thankful
for your open door, although i insisted
getting in through the window.
i am sorry
it is broken; sorry
i fell through clumsily only to find you
waiting inside so porcelain
and calm; holding out to me
a warm cup of tea.
i am sorry i still believe
that a stubborn December
can wind us down, that i am not faithful
in the firm foundation that has held
up all these years.
oh, and i thank you
for the tea.
on my latest journey
i did not pick
anything out for you -
there was nothing
worth carrying home.
At first glance, I think this year will last
to make fine memories, cherished once,
when time that’s now, has sunk into the past.
rumbling snores,
the clickety-click of
doggie toenails
on the wooden floors –
familiar sounds
quietly welcome
the new year
The avocado in my refrigerator is dark green, skin pebbled, ripe and ready to be eaten.
thepremiseisgrace.wordpress.com
New Years Day:
white fallen upon the world,
covering before.~HAS 1 Jan 2012
New Years Day:
white fallen upon the world,
covering before.~HAS 1 Jan 2012
My first small stone: Bamboo canes, sturdy and black against delicate lime leaves, move to the rhythm of the wind like arms at a rock concert.
last year’s oak leaves skip along the deck, hens call for their feed, flies and honey bees out and about in this warm winter sunshine –soft sounds behind the windblown notes of our bamboo mobile
Take down the old calendars, close them and save them; replace with fresh new pages of possibilities.
Life indented in lines and tracks. Small, strong, dexterous. Softened by a loving Christmas gift of silken cream. My old, familiar hands.
A soaring, swooping flock of birds, all in unison like a wave, swerves and dives around the traffic circle, not as if to mock those more earthbound, but instead to invite a sense of airy disentanglement among beloved companions. Move as one, in effortless concert, and feel the lofty freedom of mindful flight.
January 1, 2012- Small Stones
invisible pause by Teri H Hoover
If there was a pause
between
goodbye and hello
I missed it.
Morning of a new day, dawn of a new year–the sky clear blue and wide open with a golden edge. A wisp of white cloud floats slowly south as my heart opens–to the day, the year, the sky, the light, (for the picture of the sky, see http://thousandshadesofgray.wordpress.com/2012/01/01/day-of-rest-small-stone/).
legions of leaves hiss and swirl like angry birds
Seagull grooming in the centre of the river on the walk to church, diving under, diving under, diving under, and then tailfeathers up, an awkaward, improbable clown elicits laughter, delight.
Tradition
silver sixpence out in the cold night air
retrieved this morning with hopes and dreams for the emerging year
Nap time. Mac the pug curls up in between my legs. Charlie kneads my chest and then settles across my belly, purring. I am loved.
Tactile
Our women's dreams woven together around Sandy's New Year Log. The future is nothing compared to this
moment.
The trees are just appearing against the lightening dawn sky. The ravens are speaking. They started their conversation in the dark.
January 1.2012:
The universe continues
The stars oblivious
The earth turns, uncaring
Animals live and die unknowing
Only a miniscule population
Marks a random day
Chosen by them
As a fresh beginning
counting each time their
speck of dust circles the
warmth and light of its
sun
Happy New Year
first call of the year
talk of art and artists
excitement
how to pull insight
from sight
Happy New Year
Today we are blessed with new beginnings
The opportunity to look back
with fondness, appreciation, gratitude.
The chance to look forward
with faith, hope and love.
But today it is the now I will cherish;
conversations with dear friends,
a wonderful family
bustling about a busy kitchen
as we prepare to break bread together
We are abundant
We are rich in things that will last
long past dollars.
In the now we are one,
on this first day
of our new beginning.
Among trees at the lake's edge stand the sentinels, heron, still and grey as New Year's Day. Waiting for the smallest signs.
For awhile I thought I had slept through the fall of the ball. Suddenly, seventy-five pounds of frightened dog couldn't get any closer to me. It was then I heard the sounds of celebratory gunfire, firework, and shouting that penetrated the walls of the hall. The first moments of the new year were spent as a comforter on the bed.
New year has arrived soundlessly
but for whistle of frigid winds;
I am warmed by dog in lap.
She was the Silversmiths daughter
Her eyes were sapphire and bold
Her hair shone as of spun moonlight
And her dowry more precious than gold
I started her father's apprentice
He welcomed me in from the cold
Oh but she kissed me the silversmiths daughter
With her dowry more precious than gold
I took the Silversmith's kindness
And left my heart in the cold
And I took her, the silversmiths daughter
And her dowry more precious than gold
My first small stone for 2012 is here:
http://actsofbeauty.wordpress.com/2012/01/01/resolutions/
My friend's blue eyes light up when I hand her the bouquet of dewy-fresh flowers of purples,pinks,whites and yellows.It's January first,the new year and it's her birthday.The air outside is brisk, clouds are crowding the skies,rain expected.A clean start.
A cup of smoky rose tea in one hand. A slice of warm, newly baked gingerbread, sticky, fragrant and sweet in the other. No dramatic heralding of the new year for me today, but a small, quiet moment of calm instead.
pale gold winter field
white wisps of fog cross the road
dog sleeps beside me
A dull gray sky, but looking closer I find
shades of gray merging into one another..
pale gray like an oyster shell
a little darker like antique silver
and a rolling dark like fog
darkest of all, carrying their rain and snow, lowering closer and closer to the ground.
For the first time, in my whole young life, it seems I am in the right space with the right tools. The sun shines upon me like a smile.
Walking back
for forgotten glasses--
another chance
to hear the crunch of snow.
Beneath a star-scattered sky,
The only cloud visible
Is my breath.
http://hobbitmoments.com/post/15134563461/beneath-a-star-scattered-sky-the-only-cloud
Comfy armchair, Mello dog at my feet, kitties purr-curled
Bears stumble and fumble with back-to-back touchdowns
Wrapped in bright, warm southern sunshine.
(also at: http://dkrighttowrite.blogspot.com/)
Robins perch on the naked branches of our ornamental pear tree, surveying a Stellar's Jay and his mate.
crumpled cream napkins,
an inch of champagne flat in a flute,
shards of crimson lobster claw--last night, last year.
Sundown teases with the first clear sky of New Year's Day.
Clouds depart as my first lamb bleats in soft orange, pink and gold
New meets old
http://www.blipfoto.com/entry/1629320
Candles. Light streaming in through stained glass windows. Gentle sounds of breathing, soft footsteps, rustling clothes. Then, music! Bach first, followed by hymns and my two solos. I started the day singing—perfect beginning for a day, or a year.
On my morning walk, I move in and out of sunshine and shade. In the sunshine, the sun is warm on my skin, casting long shadows as I walk. In the shade, the sidewalk is wet, with almost-puddles, the fallen leaves heavy and stuck to the ground. I note the contrasts: sunny/shady, wet/dry, cold/warm. In front of one house are streamers and poppers, happy remnants of a new year's celebration.
All fireworks spent,
The air clears in the south westerly wind,
As if nothing ever happened.
On a sun-soaked flagstone, a late-fallen oak leaf curls into its own shadow.
The day wakes
sun breaks
my heart,
a small and quiet stone.
I watch a man, in jacket and baseball cap, light up a cigarette in the Wawa parking lot on New Year’s morning. The sun is shining brightly on him. He hasn’t taken on the grand challenge of quitting smoking this year. To him, it's just another day.
winter geese~
the sound of this day
beginning
Start the day with coffee
and at lunch, a bit of tea.
Before bed; a hot toddy
to keep the days full
of warmth and fluidity.
Rich Merrill
The quiet of the day
Contrasts with the noise
Of the fireworks
Which welcomed
The start of the new cycle
Of the year
Five-years-old. Feathers tangled into hair that whips from side to side. The pink and blue hula-hoop twirls around shaking hips and falls to the ground.
Rumi, Divine Intoxication..Her wine upon my lips is sweet and eternal. Another year to show her all those things I can not find the words to say.
through the firs
sunlight dapples
the rainbow flag
The day breaks shiny and new. Hoar frost glistens, yielding to the sun’s light. Trees throw bare branches into crystalline blue as if to net a bird. Inside, all asleep but me, the quiet broken only by the refrigerator’s hum, the meowing of the cat waiting to come in.
Peace...
My first stone of the month is at http://www.elizabethkateswitaj.net/2012/01/a-river-of-31-stones-starts-with-one/
A sprinkling of sparkling stars
Scattered across the darkness of the pre-dawn sky
New Year's Day champagne
"A New Year"
dawn arrives
on the maple
seven times seven
crescent moons germinate
in dewdrops
Holes in the fast moving dark grey clouds reveal white clouds behind, and sometimes even a patch of the big blue sky way beyond.
My whole post:
http://writtenbyim.blogspot.com/2012/01/day-1-clouds.html
"Watching a Murder of Crows in Loring Park at Dusk"
(Stone # 1 by Rhonda L. Johnson)
Eerie silhouettes
disperse from the
safety of skeletal
tree limbs
like black angels
against the winter sky
Midnight--fireworks boom
worried dog wanders the house
just another day
A robin flits to and fro through the mesh fencing between gardens. Now alighting on the top and periodically tilting its little head sideways to peer at the ground.
New Years Day
So very hot
Candles melt
Without being lit.
My ear plugs worked wonders this morning.
It is New Years Day and a Sunday. I wanted to sleep late but my neighbor wanted to talk LOUDLY on the phone. She was very excited at times and used words common to a truck driver. When she was at that volume I could understand every word. The spicy one sided conversation was neither interesting or restful.
Like I said my ear plugs worked wonders this morning. When these sponge like devices were installed her loud words became a dull sound at a great distance.
My eye saw movement to the right and a large bird cage came into view. The pagoda shaped aviary seemed out of place in the bed of the tan pickup that was streaked with dust and driven by a tired looking woman with short grey hair and a cigarette hanging from the fingers of her left hand. I wondered what kind of finicky bird called this magnificent cage home. The inside was draped with strings of colorful buttons, toys, shells, flowers and mirrors. The mirrors twinkled in the sunlight and I watched until it was only a speck in the distance.
http://genealogytraces.blogspot.com/p/january-river-of-small-stones.html
a dickens of a year ends, thank goodness,
great expectations for the start of a new one
the computer screen imagination
the world safely boxed
and subject to truncated creative whim
Loose bamboo shoots discovered
Reaching skyward in I's and X's ~
A boy's dream
A home owner's nightmare
The sparkler looks like a fiery dandelion shooting glittery seeds into the dark of the night as we plant our hopes and dreams for a new year.
http://thegatheringofstones.blogspot.com/2012/01/january-1-2012.html
still raining [neighbours dog still barking][another answers]
this new year's day doesn't matter
to a cloud, this one is shaped like nothing, just a cloud
amongst the other clouds and cloud shapes not standing out
or bruising the sky, it's dark just like the rest[a magpie]
the not exactly deep-purple [just the one] and green-grey yellows
that turn to lighter by the occasional light[no rainbow]
this may or may not be
but what I see
it is going a little faster than the rest
or is more still...
Midnight moment
Ancient bells clear in cool air, peal the change from old to new
Fireworks flash light the sky, silhouette silent standing trees
Steady dripping from the gutter punctuated by woosh and roar of
Rockets exploding in the neighbours’ garden.
The cold, crisp night in the canyon was punctuated by the high pitched chirp of a bat concealed by darkness.
New Year's morning. The board is bright white, the knife dull silver, the lime vivid. As I cut, juice coats my fingers. Thin slice then sharply fragrant in the mug of boiling water.
Today
~
We put away the holiday
Shiny~bright in protective wrap
Patina’d by memories made
This season and decades back
~
We’ll rendezvous again
Next December
Distant....muted sound from a television, soft hum of the laptop, the tapping of its keys, the crackle of logs on the fire, the persistent rattle of the window in the wind...
Through two hot air balloons
which hung like drapes,
a third balloon, like a prince,
danced with white ballerina clouds
in a pale blue sky.
Small Stone No 1-2012
the same friends
around our breakfast table
laughter fills us all
Small Stone No 1-2012
the same friends
around our breakfast table
laughter fills us all
reeds blow, wind feels, swirling and building, lifting and lighting, feeling the sand swelling and turning; beneath my feet, under my eyes. Water builds -gathering towards me.
Lights from the Christmas tree shine through the French windows into the darkness beyond - a fairy party at the bottom of the garden.
that grown-up son is saying goodbye
my tears are hot
I know he misses me, too
Red maple, once resplendent, sheds her winter white in the momentary warmth of January rain.
Carol A Stephen
I can hear the birds
twittering in the oak tree
It’s been a month since I have heard
But today, this first fresh day
It is not too early or to late
It is not to dark or too light
For their daily celebration
The lovely Amaryllis sits squat and mutinous in her plastic pot. After the indignity of the journey she expected warmth, comfort, hospitality at least! But this window-sill is draughty, the watery daylight no substitute for sun. Her bare shoulders (they were mean with the compost) feel the chill.
With the right treatment she may settle in and stretch her swan-like neck. She may even put on her red dress, the one with the flounces.
But only if they ask her very nicely.
HNY from AliB
Gray, wintry day, stayed in pajamas. Phone with Mom for over an hour. Cat curls beside me, paws cover eyes during twitching dream.
A pair of blackbirds flicker back and forth between a cotoneaster - choked with scarlet berries - and a bare rowan tree. The male bird sits watching in the tree, awaiting his turn with the berries. He peers at me nervously through the window, his yellow beak glimmering, a tiny Belisha beacon in the rain.
Spellbound
by puppy breath and padded paws,
I pause
and can breathe again.
Am not sure if we're part of the blog-roll, do we also publish here? Will do so until I hear differently - Happy New Year all! It's good to be back in the river ...
FRESH CUT
Shades of palest purple petals – amethyst, lavender, violet too – crowd the antique crystal pitcher on the kitchen table, steal sunlight, further dazzle the eye.
S.E.Ingraham©
Day 1
Fun to participate again - thank you Fiona and Kaspa!
My offering here:
http://dailyonegoodthing.blogspot.com/
The holly berries disappear into the gloom. It feels like it wants to snow.
I am finding that the site is quite unpredictable as to whether it will let me click on a poster's name and go to their profile and from there to their post. Often the transfer tot he profile hangs and you have to find your way back to the last poster you visited from the list. Is there an easier way to do it?
I know some sites use a think called "Mister Linky". This makes visiting much easier. Just a thought.
Trapped
The zigzag
Tries to straighten
Over and over
And over again.
This is what Einstein
Called madness,
Dear one.
But, no,
I am the madwoman
Watching this illusion
Over and over
And over again.
Warm air is rising outside my front door, with a grassy smell, and I see one red and one yellow rose blooming, raised high on the tops of spindly stalks like the statue of liberty's torch.
Welcome to 2012~ Laura Hoopes
Two days with good friends, filled with food and laughter. The best way to remember the best of reasons, before diving into the maelstrom.
(Just in time. Also on my blog.)
Words don't die when they leave our lips, but live on in others: taken to heart, mapped in the memory.
A Peaceful Slumber
The warmth of the light that fills his space.
The constant flowing of the water nearby.
His eyes labor to open and then give up.
Closing them he breathes softly and slumbers with a smile.
I sit in the cell, trapped.
Trapped in the prison of my mind.
I wish to scream “Let me out!”
But the mind has no voice, silenced by shame.
My prison, and I am my jailer, and I have lost the key.
The cedar was a-twitter with a flock of hungry starlings.
Woke up this afternoon to find rain pummeling the back garden, power washing the new year.
Curled back up on the sofa, waiting for sleep to power wash my head, which had taken a new year's pummeling.
Turning of the year.
Choosing a word,
words choosing me.
Clearing space,
Energy flowing.
Savoring,
Ordinary,
Enoughness.
Rain-soaked ground yields mud, although sure-footed dogs can use four-paw drive. Distant whistles and shouts indicate holiday dog-walkers.
Together they play Harry Potter using what's on hand for wands and capes.
Imagination, and cooperation at it's best.
New Year's Day Mountain Sunrise
It's my calendar not hers. Writ upon her calendar is only rest, renewal, life and surrender.
The nor'easter sculpts the waves of snow.
An eagle held the air watching first-footers on his hill today. The sunset early and hastened their departure. Gliding serene, the watcher rode a thermal to roost high up, upon a crag.
An eagle held the air watching first-footers on his hill today. The sunset early and hastened their departure. Gliding serene, the watcher rode a thermal to roost high up, upon a crag.
Snowmen, Angels, a Burl Ives Santa have gone skidded on a New Year's lawn. We take you home and return to the absence you left behind, our breath falling like spent holiday decor.
Only cold moves today.
It edges my window glass with thick ice.
All breath is hidden.
Dog tracks mark an X
on the flashlight snow.
Winds Rush;
snow's crunch
this navy blue morning,
the first of the Year.
the darkness is not so absolute
that it stops us from
seeing with our hearts.
www.cloakedmonk.com
On the bench the roses flush in their vase, outside the velvet wind brings dust from the Mallee and the hot scent of fear from past fires.
Today's first writing can be found ob my writing webpage: http://dldselfnarration.wordpress.com/2012/01/01/mindful-writing-challenge-day-1/
I'd love it if you left comments, as I will be discovering a few things about myself. Thanks, Denise (dld)
The avocados love to be placed in the dish with D'Anjous, because then I remember to call them alligator pears.
Waking, late morning or afternoon maybe. Doesn't matter really. Four perfectly placed cats'oontented purrs lull me back to sleep. god worship will have to wait.
It doesn't take much to meet the woman writing for this moment. Sometimes I forget she is here. Sometimes I forget she is
still - in - there.
Then, suddenly, I remember where she left off and it begins again, but always new, like the start of a brand new year.
On the roof, I escaped, facilitated by an oddly shaped holly branch. I left behind all that had rattled my soul, letting it fly as my body fell.
http://oyeh.org/vy/18192
On this, the first day of the year, the sky is gray...many shades of gray.
There is a flock of birds creating shapes againes the grayness of the morning, oblivious to the fact than another year has begun.
I feel gray and cold, and hope that this year will be better than the last.
Oat grains fall out across the counter and escape to hide in cracks I never knew existed in the
grout. They are not the orderly army of fiber I thought I commanded. They turned into a guerrilla attack against my sanity in the new year.
LED icicles dance in an easy breeze, casting miniature spotlights that chase each other across the stucco wall.
"...I created little things in silence that were done in a more natural stance, like outdoors, I said a short prayer, sprinkling something beautiful around a tree or special flower, I even told a Bee once that kept swarming around me to go find someone else who needed a 'sting in the butt' more than I did -- I was being a 'good girl' in all I was doing!!! And it buzzed off happily."
~Indigenous Shamanic Winds
Sunset!
Fiery end to the years first day.
A burst of joy at new beginnings!
A woman out for an early morning walk pushes a baby stroller. Inside the carriage is a tiny curly black haired puppy.
http://elizabethhoward.net/2012/01/see-clearly/
I'll be posting with photos: here's the text.
After an hour in Target–
Mind buzzing–
The cold parking lot air slices through me, and
A low sun bursts through my brain.
I look up and find
I am not alone.
Happy New Year: have another earthquake, and a small dog scolding the ground.
So plump and bursting with a riot of plans
And fears
And hopes
And little knowing smiles
That it's like I'm a huge bag of old toys
Waiting to be dumped out
In a good place.
http://ahomebodylikeme.blogspot.com/2012/01/january-mindfulness-writing-challenge.html
I like how birds seem to be the first thing many of us noticed on Jan 1st!
http://ahomebodylikeme.blogspot.com/2012/01/january-mindfulness-writing-challenge.html
I like how birds seem to be the first thing many of us noticed on Jan 1st!
my word this year, illuminate. I have never had a word, I thought if I picked one, it would wash away with all good new year's intentions. But it visited me in my meditation, lighting my heart, glowing. It visited me in dark thoughts, turned them to dust memory bunnies and they blew away with the wet wind. Illuminate, I will keep you as lng as you keep me.
On the drive home from the mountains back to the beach, the average traffic speed on the hiway was 60-65 miles per hour, compared to the day before the New Year's Eve traffic that exceeded 80 miles per hour. Either the drivers were recovering from a wild party last night or they decided to slow down and enjoy each moment of 2012 because it might be their last Mayan year on earth.
holiday traffic
everyone goes home
with a story
My daily Stones are posted at:
http://justperfectstudio.blogspot.com/
there is but one Light,
but it reflects on every face
in one phase or another
The whirring of the dishwasher with the house lights dimmed,
the breathing sounds Greg makes from in his easy chair,
and the familiar commercial jingles out of the TV remind me
I am here now,
hundreds of miles from the northeastern chill that
lingers in my stiffened calves and feet.
I rotate and flex my ankles, neck, shoulders.
I let these sounds around me 'in'.
I feel my toe bones, muscles...and I think I break into
a smile within.
A path of orange light
shines across the turquoise sea
treading under a purple sky
I journey from shore to the setting sun
Fog fuggled sky
Washed hard with rain
Slate grey weighing down
to meet the horizon
http://limetreelegends.blogspot.com/
Green dilutes to grey as
Rain dissolves the garden
Yellow fork stuck there, waiting.
1st day of the year
the headache is the same
as last year
Winding your way towards 200, I see!
From day one:
dental appointment
in april
I've been waiting two months to
write it on the new calendar
Sparrows twittering in bare bushes, starlings standing guard on roofs. Seagulls skirmishing in the skies and, all around, pidgeons strutting.
http://pseu1.wordpress.com/2012/01/02/1st-january-2012-small-stones-1-posted-late/
A little late, but a contribution from me
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