One rose
dripping red, like blood from thorns –
a warning? a promise?
even roses die –
love, too?
(Written for Dark Side of the Moon’s Reverse Cinquain.)
(Image: Â A Rose to Ignite Passion is available on our shop at Society6.)
One rose
dripping red, like blood from thorns –
a warning? a promise?
even roses die –
love, too?
(Written for Dark Side of the Moon’s Reverse Cinquain.)
(Image: Â A Rose to Ignite Passion is available on our shop at Society6.)

Even as we let go
of that which no longer serves
our hearts grow wings.
*****
I am venturing into new territory,
and have established a virtual store front with Society6: Â KnutsonKreations.
I would love it if you’d check me out. Â Society6 is offering an Artist Promotion through to Thursday, February 21 at midnight – 25% off and free shipping worldwide using the link above.
Creating “poetry-to-go” has been a dream of mine. Â This is the beginning!
Unheralded,
an apparition
in white –
wings enveloping,
uplifting
soul cries,
voiceless,
powerless –
no pause
on perfection
she follows coastlines
while I travel roads,
fades from view
her shadow lingers,
wraps me in melancholy
one minute of rapture –
enough to make me mourn.
(Inspired by the sudden appearance of an egret while shooting this image. Â Submitted for Manic Mondays 3 Way Prompt: Â roads, and Reena’s Exploration challenge: Â one minute.)
Even weeds reach for the sky,
as if heaven holds a secret,
as if liberation lies in the stars
and the day’s passage into night
is a promise – I reach for the sky
with my prayers, with my wishes,
am no more enlightened than a weed.
Man, possessed of mind,
logic driving ambition –
magic overlooked.
(For Ronovan Writes Weekly Haiku challenge: Â man & magic)
Black and white flashes
disrupt the tangle of grey –
heart-soaring sweetness.
Do come near,
sit under morning star
Your word has power,
as if a mutual mind
I light emotion –
a soft-eyed me –
and honour evening gift
fill her world
like felt on life.
(More magnetic poetry. Â Join in. Â I’d love to see your creations.)
Path to peace is circuitous –
having been modeled unrest,
schooled in denial…
Expectation envisions
a grassy peninsula –
gently rolling greens
and tranquil blue waters –
predictability that lulls
I am accustomed to together –
the perpetual state of empathic
measuring – one’s values aligned
to another’s emotional indicator
Looking outward, I contemplate;
force-feed my innards with fluff
of how-to’s and top ten ways –
nothing that sustains…
It’s dawning now that neither
upbringing, nor expectation,
nor the noise of expert wannabees,
will lead me to the peace I seek.
I turn my attention to nature –
study the steadfast confidence
of the Great Blue wading through
darkened waters, intently aware
Like a feathered shaman, he
mesmerizes me, commands respect,
calms the noise and lifts my soul –
the secret is within, his presence
whispers, and for once, I listen.
(This week, I am focusing on living with intent, specifically interested in the ways in which I invite peace into my life. Â My weekly challenge is open to all.)