Softly, mostly,
a moth's wings
beating against closed palms,
comes the flutter
Too new to name
Inchoate emotion
We must wait,
see what blooms
Coax with quiet,
hope
Sometimes,
weakness is winnowed
Dies before it is born,
breath stolen by a ghost
or a doubt
But sometimes,
a bud
catches the light of a thousand sunrises,
blossoms with joy
Sometimes,
a gentle awakening,
the footfall of fairies
dancing on ivory keys.
submitted for The Mag, Mag 205
and for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Kerry Says Find Your Creative Space
and for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Kerry Says Find Your Creative Space
6 comments:
smiles...a cool collage in this...love the opening..the soft moth wings on cupped hands..slight dip at the ghosts of doubt and then you bring on the magic with the faeries
so subtle, sometimes unseen are those little things that intertwine and mesh all that is.
you seem to capture that in this quiet peaceful piece
gracias, mi amiga
I love the final image.. There is something magical about feeling the words gathering, waiting to be set free.
…the footfall of fairies. Yes, I invite them, they seldom show up. :)
Awww - you played your words beautifully here - breathtaking images produced!
Gentle, beautiful.
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