tanka – Page 4 – One Woman's Quest

We Are Clay

Erasing the past –
collecting ash with chopsticks –
infertile practice
embrace, learn, and recreate
we are clay – artist’s magic.

Silent aftermath
sanctity violated
nuance exploded –
Will democracy endure?
What grows beneath the ashes?

(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknuston. Image my own.)

There is no promise
life passes, sometimes trickles
we survive or thrive
love as glue, spirit reigning
heart open – sacred witness.

(Image my own.)

Paper me over
with carnal designs, I am
hourglass losing
myself in the shift – pencil
sketches facing erasure.

(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Art mine)

I see a nation
uniting for a purpose
their pride as buckshot
forging new paths for justice
repairing gaps – room to breathe.

(Image my own)

Empty spaces hold
wonder, I drop emotion
focus on present
open mind to mystical –
creativity takes flight.

(Written for Eugi Causerie’s weekly challenge: mystical. Image my own.)

Emotions a mess
no security in words
page invites finesse
thoughts tumble, filters falter
longueur of sentences bore.

(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image mine.)

Quiet now, places
harbouring my memories –
river dreamcatcher –
nostalgia floats on swan’s back
past bridges linking time lapsed.

(Tuesdays I borrow from my Twitter account #Vjknutson. Image my own)

I farm reflection
plant seeds of wrath, soil black –
insatiable words
nurtured by mind-storms and rays
of passing enlightenment.

(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image mine)

Shoulder to shoulder
we contemplate clouds, hunt for
silver, my brother
lost, then found, ponders what ifs –
clouds become threads, unite us.

(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Photo mine)