Day 29: January Mindful Writing Challenge (3 days left)

Moon shot by Jeremy Bronsonthe sign above the station
trying to outshine
the summer moon

B.T. Joy

We’re on the twenty-ninth day of the January Mindful Writing Challenge - please post your small stone in the comments below.

If you’re not already signed up, our 31 Days of Waking Up daily email package was designed to accompany you during this (or any) month of mindful writing. Keep writing! Nearly there!

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Moon shot by Jeremy Bronson

Comments & replies

57 thoughts on “Day 29: January Mindful Writing Challenge (3 days left)

    1. Malek Montag

      Not something I’ve done in a while. But looking up at the night sky… Lovely. And your three lines just capture that brilliantly! :-) Bit difficult i the UK at the moment to look up at anything! :-D

      Reply
  1. Kay Walker

    Sleepy eyed and intention filled,
    Morning knocks.
    Yes to the day of wonder and delight.
    Intentions of joy fulfilled.
    Intentions of tasks ride into tomorrow
    Sleepy eyed and gratitude filled,
    Night gently surrounds.

    Reply
  2. Linda

    The wonderful smell of
    manured garden soil just delivered;
    The aching back, limbs and neck
    after barrowing two cubic metres
    of it up the hill to the garden;
    The satisfaction of a job well done.

    Reply
  3. Brinda

    **********

    snow, snow, snow…
    at one end while at the next
    sun, sun, sun in full bloom
    at one side, the body fights
    at the other, the fat melts
    both extremes signify change
    whether we agree or not
    whether we are straight or
    sing “Same Love” together
    at the Grammy’s or walk
    paddy fields in between
    two mouthfuls, have naps
    thinking of GMO’s or refrain
    to sing our hearts’ songs
    and keep our breaths
    under check just in case
    our neighbours might be offended
    our fears fester into megalithic
    swollen bombs that are far
    more powerful than Hiroshima
    and yet, we have a choice
    to be genuine and authentic
    with a few ounces of common
    sense and integrity to be who
    we really are, bound and yet,
    separate, same and still unique
    as our toes and fingers….

    ***********

    Reply
  4. Nicole

    Dear Son
    It’s your birthday today…
    If you were born on Mercure
    You would be 125 years old
    If you were born on Jupiter
    You would be 10 years old
    But you were born on this good old earth
    I Believe it was the best choice
    And you are 31 on this blessed day
    When you were born to be our son.
    A very happy birthday to you !

    Reply
  5. Daphne Radenhurst

    Death brings one up short,
    First shock and grief,
    Then a sense of otherness.
    The other is more present to you
    Now than in life.
    One is walking between two worlds.
    Then comes acceptance
    And, finally ….
    Peace.

    Reply
  6. A.D. Stankowicz

    the dilapidated doghouse
    in the neighbor’s back yard -
    between their dying peach tree and
    our patch of weeds-
    uninhibited.

    can’t tell if the dog died
    or moved in
    with the family

    Reply
  7. Maaike Klaster

    Blowing over, filling up the whole window, waving almost,
    fluffy white set against a light blue sky, is a feathery cloud,
    telling about the adventures it’s having right now – how,
    even for someone living in Amsterdam, India’s quite close
    to home. You just have to go.

    Reply
  8. JulesPaige

    a tanka:
    lost plots…
    *
    there behind my eyes
    visions dance undirected
    shadows and rainbows
    *
    both fade quickly when I wake
    sometimes teasingly; repeat
    *
    ©JP/davh

    Reply
  9. Karen Schorno

    Looking up I spy a furry mass
    nestled on the branch of the willow oak.
    Sun glistens on the protected back
    of one of the tree acrobats…

    Reply
  10. John S Oliver

    Lazy Single Male

    Again I am enjoying a chicken and pasta dish from the microwave.
    There are all kinds of sauces that make for a variety in these single serving dishes.

    I have been told by those who like to cook how I could make my own.
    I have done that before but this way is easier.

    I admit that I am a lazy single male when it comes to cooking.

    Reply
  11. Hajra

    With every season the associated sights and sounds are the same
    And the memories attached to those ….
    Come rushing back every time…
    Yet what if you want to erase them…
    Really, truly…maybe even desperately…
    Is that possible…?

    Reply
  12. Malek Montag

    Fresh sheets. Duvet cover. Pillows piled up behind. The scent of toast in the room. Marmalade ready to spread. On the bedside table a cup steams gently. Coffee swirls inside its cylinder. Curtains drawn and early morning light pours in. There’s no hurry. No need to worry. Breakfast in bed…

    Reply
  13. Dave Conley

    Slowly more light enters our day
    Yet heavy rains darkens our mood
    Forecast snow set to brighten tomorrow
    And lighten our spirits to a new high

    Reply
  14. Lizzie Carver

    Barty dog, shoulder deep in the waste paper bin, in search of a tasty gum wrapper. Backs out, chewing greedily in case I’m planning to fight him for it.

    Reply
  15. Laurel Regan

    every morning, clockwork ritual
    vertical blinds fly open with a dramatic whoosh
    three cats converge, jockey for position on the sofa back
    the perfect spot to watch the world go by

    Reply
  16. Sharon Black

    It is enough to cross the canal de Sète, to lean
    over the rail of the Pont de Pierre and watch
    the fish below scud and dart, to count the bells
    of the Eglise Sainte-Thérèse chime four
    and tilt my face to the sun, breathing in
    the smell of salt and fish and diesel fumes,
    your arm like a bowline round my waist.

    Reply
  17. Jean S

    Who decided to put stones in my bones?
    There they fight for my attention
    While I moan from even slight motion
    And exorcise the exercise prescribed.
    Stones should not be in bones.

    Reply
  18. Pamela Niles

    Clouds pour over the terrain
    devour the sun
    weep
    *
    A small hole in the ground
    Squirrel plunges down
    her front door
    *
    A flurry of birds scatter
    in a deluge of rain
    the stillness of it all.

    Reply
  19. sue

    Steep driveway arching away from the road,
    frosted with a inch of smooth, sparkling snow,
    touched only by tiny cat prints,
    a perfect single line up the center.

    January 29, 2014

    Reply
  20. larry p

    The vase on the small table by my chair
    is effectively a 4-inch diameter sphere, but having
    an extended and flattened bit
    at the bottom for stability
    and an extended and flared bit
    at the top for access.
    It sports a lacy collar
    and is adorned throughout
    with tiny air bubbles.
    The vase is now almost completely filled:
    small, pink cranes
    two shades
    two sizes,
    1½- and 2½-inch wingspans.
    Soon, it must be removed from sight
    to protect it from tomorrow’s small visitor.

    Reply
  21. Michelle Hed

    In one moment, I’m
    listening…
    cow bells ringing,
    the slap of skis on the snow
    feeling…
    the sun so warm
    but my toes are frozen
    seeing…
    a man in shorts
    and a winter jacket
    thinking…
    only in Minnesota
    with a smile on my face.

    Reply
  22. Carol A. Stephen

    Jan. 29, 2014

    …we no longer look up
    when your shadow falls on the book we are reading
    and makes it glow. — The Book of Hours I, 45 — Rilke

    When he first died, I’d see his shadow
    fall upon the stairs, or silhouetted
    in the garden, just past evening.

    His lingered music early mornings
    would wake me gently with its echoes
    from somewhere distant, its tune not quite recalled.

    I don’t remember when his visits stopped,
    his spirit finally finding rest, but sometimes,
    mornings, I still hear music softly coming through my window.

    –CAS

    Reply
  23. S.E.Ingraham

    January 29, 2014

    WHISPERS ON THE WIND

    The wind is harsh tonight, filled with Arctic cold and polar iciness;
    and when it howls full of gustiness and more winter to come, I hear
    your voice, barely a whisper, in my ear, trying to tell me what it
    was you needed me to know there near the end.

    Reply
  24. Joan

    #smallstones 29

    One tiny flickering flame

    Just one glimmer of light

    is all it takes to keep

    the fire within burning

    Reply
  25. SM Jenkin

    A cough, the delicate staccato
    of the best man at a wedding
    tipping the side of a wineglass
    with a fork.
    The flash catches me unaware,
    my hand on the
    switch. It is still
    dark.

    Reply
  

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