I remember your #berry stained lips As you handed me some too The innocence of you The innocence of me A #kindness true When our legs Were little And smiles Bigger A little Too Long Ago #emoetry #whistpr #poetrylovers

And when the world beyond your family becomes too heavy to bare bring your family into the hurting world. Hold hands tightly and let your love be seen by all. Make new family by those willing to take your hands. And when your family then reaches beyond the world, be home and love the change.

the soft parts exposed my vulnerability becomes my true strength #senryū #haiku #micropoem #strength #vulnerability

Meet me at the edge of the garden. Tell no one you’re leaving. I will know when you’ve arrived. I will scale the brambled briared hedge, if you don’t mind the thorned scratches down my forearm. If I leap from the edge of the garden, do you think they’d notice our absence by morning?

this moment more holy than the last #eastcoastkin #swenyru

My jade in the windowsill need not worry about the next rainfall. Instead she presses her face against the cool glass panes, watching the sidewalk battles of the thirsty, wild plants below. (1/2) #poetry #poem

No grand purpose, So I paint, My own small dream. 🎨 🫟 #Senryu #Poem #MicroPoem #ShortVerse #CreativeWriting

Delighted to have a new #haiku published in @freshoutmag.bsky.social Poetry Collective Huge thanks to Eric Lohman #micropoetry #poetry #poetrylovers #poetrycommunity #woods #winter #manchester #uk

Steady my feet as I climb the rocky bluffs towards the Great Pacific. As her waves crash and churn against the pebbled, bouldered beaches; swell up in me a current of gratitude for my life beyond the shore. May it carry me through the forest, down the winding trail, and safely to my Indiana home.

In a world flooded with words that tear and snap, let love flow from your throat, spill over your tongue, hug your teeth, and pour past your lips. May the air around you be so saturated with the dew of your loving phrase that to be in your presence is to swim. #poem #poetry #poetrycommunity

I just introduced my 17 yo daughter to this much-loved poem. If you beat yourself up mentally though you don’t hurt others, if your brain is different so your thoughts are loud and tangled, if you’re conscientious but still very strict with yourself, then it’s also for you:

Do you know the earliest signs of human civilization? A mended bone. Healing. Our oldest brothers willing to pause their fight for survival, to slow their pace, to risk their safety. May we not have progressed so far as to forget the most basic thing that makes us human: A mended bone. Healing.

The Tree and Her Roots Does the tree shy from the support of her roots? Does she creak and groan in apology for the weight of her trunk? Does she drop her leaves in spring to lessen the load? Chop her branches? Withhold her fruits? Look to the trees, for they rely on their roots. #poem #poet

When the dust rises on the horizon, and the dirt devils whirl, the sand becomes cloud, and the hidden sun glows a ghastly red. Taste the grit on your teeth. Feel the silt fill your lungs.

summer wind we'll meet again at the usual shore you bring a rose and I'll bring some poems Fatma Zohra Habis #NaTankaMo #MayTanka #Tanka #TankaThursday #5lines #vss365 #poetrycommunity #poem shore

The farmer gave me a small satchel filled with the tiniest seeds. I wear this cloth bag on my hip and dip my right hand into the pocket as I walk along. For weeks, I followed the farmer’s instructions leaving a trail of these seeds behind me.

You watch a comet shoot across the night sky above you: “What’s meant for you, will not pass you by.” And what if the passing is what’s meant for you? There’s beauty in the tail of the shooting star

Golden evening hues, Picnic blankets spread about, Laughters fill the air. #haiku #haikupoem #575poem #haikupoetry #poetry #poem #haikufeels #blueskypoet #blueskypoetry #dailyhaikuprompt #haikusaturday #vss365 #vssdaily #senryu #haikuwriter

Roots planted firmly Rings too numbered to count Rigid bark protecting Rivers of sap below Righteous the mighty tree Rightly content in where she grows Reaching beyond her Roots Hold her acorn in your hand Take her where she’d never dream to Roam. #poem #poetry #alliteration

Meet me at the edge of the garden. Tell no one you’re leaving. I will know when you’ve arrived. I will scale the brambled briared hedge, if you don’t mind the thorned scratches down my forearm. If I leap from the edge of the garden, do you think they’d notice our absence by morning?

As above, so below— an easy truth to know, a harder proof to show; but if this morn we must go, this advice I will bestow: if yourself you wish to grow, remember what you always know— as above, so below. #poetry #poem #hermetic #esoteric

He will raise you up on eagles’ wings, stand you up on the great heron’s legs, speed you up on the hummingbird’s flutter, scoop you up in the pelican’s beak, shake you up by the woodpecker’s pounding; Look to the birds, they’ll teach you to fly to him. #poem #poetry

Two days past: the dress Today: the heavy black coat Played the false spring fool #haiku #poetry #poem

February clouds Broken for just a moment Closed eyes, warm pink lids #haiku #poetry #haikupoetry #poem #poetrycommunity

Water to wine Sight for the blind Manna from high The sea lets us pass by Lazarus steps Veronica wepts Saul falls Paul answers the calls Miracles: they’ll happen with or without you, here is just a few, look for where they occur in your own life: You can choose to see the miracles.

As the calvary march towards the kingdom, I pray for a sore hoof, a weak joint, a spooked disposition, anything to send Saul tumbling from his saddle. Protect his horse, but not his sight, and in his blindness, may Paul lead the herd towards peace in the kingdom. Acts 9:1-19 #poem #poetry

“No one is listening.” Did you tell the trees? Write. Did you tell the water? Shower. Did you tell the wind? Sing. Did you tell the earth? Dance. I tell you my daughter, they are all here for you, they wait only to listen, and how they miss your voice.

At the end of the day... #poetry #poet #blueskypoetry #skypoets #haiku #micropoem @blueskypoetry.bsky.social

Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s, but what if Caesar wants what’s mine? What if Herod asks for my cousin's head? Do I polish the silver platter? Do I sharpen the knife?

When I fall dance with me with the leaves and wind in a moonlit forest Take me down a no name stream onto an ancient river crush me under the collapsing glass of ocean waves Wash me up broken into tiny pieces on a golden beach To dance once more with the sand and wind #poetry

ashes in my hot tea slow morn #haiku?

where the ice melted at the tip of a thorn twig nothing but the moon

Robert Creeley

I would’ve chosen different gifts for a baby. Not much good does gold for a boy born in a manger. Death perfumes? To a postpartum mother? Even the drummer boy, pa rum pa pa pum must’ve been quite the racket. We say the kings were wise, but maybe a meal and a rattle would’ve been more thoughtful.

As I wait until the clock strikes twelve, I pray for just another second with my carriage and my horsemen. Do not mistake my plea as ingratitude for the pumpkin and the mice, but tomorrow they will return to fruit and fur.

And what if he was only a watchman? or I snap my clavicle falling from the garden wall? My poor companions, they cannot bear me more, for I can hardly bear myself. I search with a torch fueled from the cloth of his back, but my ring remains lost in the grass. #bahai #aiart Parable of Two Lovers

In twilight's hush, the frost creeps near, Moonlit snowfall, silence dear. Through woods and lakes, dreams unfold, Winter's tale, both new and old. Hearts ignite in snow's embrace, Love's soft glow in winter's face. RJH #photoart #photography #nature #photographer #poetry #poem #trees #poet

that snowflake resting on your eyelashes remembered still #DailyHaikuPrompt (snowflake) #haiku

Though your eyelids be sealed in mud, Remember the night is darkest just before the dawn. The moments when your lashes weigh the heaviest and your iris aches for the light of day. It is here, in the muck and the clay, where our eyes will be cleared, the blind will see, and healing prevails.

A rose without her thorns would be cruel by nature. Trust is earned, not given. By His Grace all be forgiven, but forged in His Fire my armor shall be. Prompt in Gemini AI: Create an image based on this verse. It could be an oil painting, illustration, or any other medium you see fit. #aiart

In dusk’s embrace, spirits roam, Nature’s call, a whispering home. Journey’s end where heartbeats drone, In silent prayers, our truths are known. Weyekin Heart #poetry #weyekin #tradition #poem #nativeart #poet #drawing #abstract #sketch

Leave the voices at the end of the road. Let them gnash and wail as your feet step over the loose gravel threshold. Watch them scrape their teeth and slash their nails on the briared border between the well-worn road and the ever flowing river. (1/4)

The faith it must have taken to cross the barren desert. Three wise men following heaven’s map towards the child king. Where do the stars guide you onwards? You know the way. The constellations mark your soul like freckles. (1/2)

Maybe . . . we never left the garden. Instead, we are mice, blind and stiffened, paws stood firmly on supple sod, frozen in fear as the serpent circles your spine. A forked tongue flicks in your ear: “You’ve long left Eden” Be a mongoose amongst mice and enjoy the splendors of the garden.

Sunflower daughter, petals painting far gardens - my six word memoir #writingcommunity

If he danced for the lord with all his might, why do your bones grow dense and your joints grow cold? Do not let your body forget. Through every vein flows the rhythm of the sacred dance. It has never been too long since you last tapped your toes to her melody. (1/2)

Cattails bobbing on the bank Teeth below the surface A wicker woven vessel lined with lonely linen Peril beyond the lily pads Still safer than the shore A hopeless journey fortunate to find a queen’s refuge. Though our ships be no more sturdy, may we find anchor in her holy bosom. Exodus 2:5-10

Tarnished brassy strands flowing down my shoulders, commanded never to be cut lest I lose my strength. Yet with Deliliah’s sheers, I nip away each split end. How could I call myself Samson, when I have done the cutting? Judges 16 #poetry #poem #meditation

He loved the broken promises of my empire, the gold in my hair and under my grandmother’s mattress, the silver in my cartilage and behind my mother’s cabinets. I was not aware of such inheritance, until a barter weighed in love hardly swayed this Anubian heart. www.worldhistory.org/article/42/t...

Am I a firstborn of Egypt? My mother painted the doors with the blood of the Lamb whose blood slain still stains the hands of my father. Yet in the morning when the angel of death has flown, my mother shrieks: the place I once filled stands empty. Exodus 12:13-28 #poetry #poetrycommunity