#2wordprompt #dusty #rebel #poetry The Dusty Cape The cape was dusty, disintegrating politely in the corner along with time that pretends it isn’t complicit. Being good had turned into a risk assessment, a brightly colored warning label crafted by people who never planned to bleed…

The warm embrace of fireplace, with snow in drift on windowsill fills my day with childlike dreams. Of hours spent in red-cheeked play, with hot cocoa warming hands and lips, and snowmen on the lawn. I smile with a tired yawn, letting youthful memories tug me back to another nap once more.

I sought out the forest for the trees, the ocean for the sound of waves, the mountains for windswept echoes, and embrace of loved ones for the love we all share. So seek out your bliss where 'ere it is found, and spread it to others as we all gather 'round. Merry season to all....

Be the calm mood during the storm, when the ship of state is far from shore in fractious seas.... hand to the helm, eyes narrowed against the icy spray. The ship will survive, sailors and cargo too, because of your faith in the captain.... you.

We are not the dream, only elements of it. Actors in worlds shared in part with others, looking to espouse our thoughts, standing at the crossroads of reality and imagination, bordered by creativity, under a blue sky.... seeking to expand our reach into the greater world, beyond.

Just remember, in this time of multi-media opportunities to express our views of the insanity of current governmental issues, if we can't out-dollar the billionaire donors, ee can definately out-holler them! Every voice, post, repost, march, special election, protest counts.

We need not fear the uninformed, or less open-minded among us. It's intolerance that poisons the souls of those capable of reducing certain groups of humans to objects. Bigotry can be educated out by exposure to the fear of otgers. Intolerance is baked into the clay and difficult to remove....

We often seek out answers found outside our kith and kin, as if knowledge gained from those who know us not is more pertinent to our questions asked. The task is to seek answers close to home and hearth, starting with the face seen in the mirror. And the family whontruly knows us best.

Reality is a slap in the face to those who've never suffered from personal loss like freedom, a lifetimes work in flames, or a loved one torn away from the bosom of family. Nothing compares to these. Not the price of eggs, or the hollow promises of fools blind to its approach in next fall.

Reflections The mirror boasts of truth revealed, reflecting a reverse image of how others see us. As too, our opinions in opposition to their own. We are better served by sharing our vision with equal interest in hearing others. Not to alter our inner compass, but only to become aware of theirs.

We will never learn the answers if we fear to ask the questions. Of others and ourselves. To delve beneath the certainty into hidden doubts, in shadowed halls, where demons of bias and bigotry abide. We are fragile creatures, capable of amazing deeds done under great stress. Our greatest gift. Love.

We are constructs of flesh and bones. The first returns to the soil, second remains behind reminding those who find them we are the same in body and mind. The energy coming through the veil, a spark of creativity uniquely our own, returns to the circle of time and space until our next journey home.

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To find one's place in such an open and inviting place, where like souls can dance to their own musical.notes..... is to swim in creative seas from all across the land, oceans, and vast distances encountered in listening to the echoes of people's thoughts in return.

There is nothing I can do to change things until understanding the way they appear to be. To begin within one's own mindset based on upbringing, exposure to people different than ourselves, remaining open to the thoughts of others. Change begins within, before happening without.

Writing, like sheet music, has the ability to transfer energy over time and distance. With twenty-six symbols and a handful of punctuation or 88 notes on a piano, what the writer or composer created is brought to life again.

We drag ourselves into the future, one day placed upon the next to come, with little more then faint promise of another, our willing souls awakening to possibilities in store. To witness life in every shape, texture, and tone is reward enough for being one with hearth and home. With loved ones held.

Never underestimate the neglect caused by those who have so little empathy they ignore people's needs that fall outside their inner circle of sycophants and family. Never underestimate the power of resistance to the above by people of character who consider any and all part of an extended family.

They who feed the fire of autocracy with their fear of retribution.... will end up consumed by the inferno they helped create.

We offer, of ourselves, what we seek in others. Reflections of energy that blend in harmony with our own. As if a collaboration of creativity, whether in art, music, words, or images painted by brushstroke or shutter pressed. Each doing our best to capture beauty in every and all its forms.

AI is like caressing a manican. The shape is somewhat true to form, but there is nothing of substance beneath the surface. Like an actor in a movie doing their lines, with the audience thinking they're speaking directly to them. A false message, missing your heart and soul...

To be one with a community of like-minded individuals, open to each other's creative expressions of self-generated views into the world.... is to take in a deep breath of sea-sweet air, feeling it cleanse the pallette of one's soul, heart, and inquiring mind. Divine, this feeling of connectivity.

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To breathe in the scent of others' words, thoughts expressed from their innermost selves.... is to inhale knowledge outside your own. To add it to the garden grown throughout your life, where blossoms of new ideas are formed. Warmed by the unblinking eye of a universal truth, shared in common. Love.

How to win. Don't lose. How to succeed. Don't fail. How to love. Don't hate. How to thrive. Do more than survive. How to live.... be open to the people in your life, hearing them, seeing them, helping them, letting them in. Being present in each other's journey. Being human and humane....

Time measures us as we measure time, passing unnoticed like heartbeats while resting. Then, as if from nowhere, rearing up, looking in our eyes, our heatbeats throbbing in response, asking: What the hell are you waiting for? Don't waste another second. Go. Do. Fight for what's right today. Now. Us.

The truth about writing: You can't eat words, but you can absorb them. You can't weigh them when spoken, but they can bring you to your knees. You can't taste them, but they can fill your heart with joy or pain. You can't use them to build a house, but they are able to create new worlds to explore.

If I only read one book that leads me to a truth unknown.... my life is made richer by the knowledge gained. But as it is with most things of value touched, we thirst for more, and learn so much from the one that follows, close behind....

I would not remove struggle from my life, or worry, fear, or occasional.failure. Each of these add spice to the meals we partake of, every day. And in the end, if the bitter fades and the sweet remains, we will go through the thin veil with satisfied smiles on our tear lined cheeks....

To seek a blend of mutual energies, with those whose hearts sing a similar melody, believe in like values, have traveled familiar paths.... is to join with creative vibrations that permeate our souls, releasing hard won and recognized individual truths.

It's not how hard it is to do something, but how easy it is to do nothing. To learn nothing, gain nothing, offer nothing in return for someone else doing.... something.

When our needs are balanced against sacred trusts, To protect the world that offers us as friends and lovers, A place to rest our weary souls.... in spheres of water, sun, and sand, We find the essence of nature's meaning in these moments, Near to hand, hearts, and souls....

Okay.... to all the wise women in practice of magick.... time to boil, light the wick, commune with green energy, stir the waters of the air. Rise and chant the lore from centuries ago, threaded through unto today, and cast your spells.... today! Or tonight. Yeah. Tonight would be good....

To seek solace alone, bereft of what others can offer, in need of it themselves, is to deny the essence of communal life. We are meant to coexist. To trade ideas, exchange greetings, share the circle of the fire-pit. Tell our stories, learn from others. Ancient ways got us here. To there we must go.

Energy is drawn to energy.... positive to negative. Opportunity, to doors closed in your face.. Alternate paths, leading you beyond where, alone, you could never have dared to dream reaching. Seek out fellow creatives, like souls, with open minds. Share, show you care, and soar along with them....

Sing not to an empty room, but one filled with cupped ears of those who will one day seek to hear your vouce... Dream the reality to come, and cast away all fears, doubts, and other such foolish things. Close your eyes, tilt back your head.... and sing as loud, as long as you possibly can....

When we choose for ourselves which path to follow and which to bear away from.... denying fate its guiding hand, all is never lost. There is no cost assigned to one's decision to apply free will, as your destination will bend around to where you're meant to. Your future, a story already written.

Loss is how we measure gain. Tears of love worn as marks of pain. These are the valleys between the hills, where will is tested, and hearts are scarred, made stronger for the experience we would never choose. The winding road, bringing us to where we were always meant to be.

I can hear your voice in a warm breeze, whispered, Into my love-cupped ear. Above the stir of wind-kissed waves heated by horizon's glow. I know you're here, somewhere near, teasing memories awake Of us in silent watch, hand in hand as sunlight flees the stage, pulling you away again my love. Again.

The revolutionary war was supported in its early days by a small proportion of the colonies. It served to stem the tide until more could be induced to join the fray, based in part on overreach by Royal forces. The pot of rebellion stirred by events opening eyes, hearts, and minds to freedoms call...

We are in the midst of another test of what our forefathers and foremothers rose up in opposition to. To resit the will of one, or the few, over the many. To rise against tyranny and make a stand, using our collective wills to push back against the tide of self-serving interests of want to be kings.

I find great solace in writing about strong-willed women and men, enduring trauma, turmoil, and stress. Coming through the other side, a bit battered and bruised, refusing to bow down to what life might send their way. Family ties, strengthening the bonds tying them together on leagacy's road.

As to the top, we rise, so to the bottom.... fall. It is the cycle of the sun, the moon, and the stars we follow. The important thing is to measure the bottom, looking for a percentage, however small, of growth, even if it is painfully slow in moving us further ahead and, hopefully, up.....

Two hundred and fifty years ago we rose up against a tyrannical king. Not because we were unwilling to remain part of England, but due to a erratic treatment of us as citizens. We were not heard until a shot rang out on Lexington commons. No need for that today. The Constitution serves us now....

Words are arrows of our thoughts, opinions, and ideals.... passed along from eye to eye, mind to mind, inducing words from others in turn. We churn each other's feelings, hopes, and dreams.... producing collective actions taken to reveal the wrong, and rise up to support what's right....

Time opened two doors, with the past before me, the future behind. To return to churned earth or seek untrod ground, I turned around and stepped into the unknown. (Enonam: The Soul Between, WIP)