Making Bright Out of Shadows

In darkness, away from leaf-song and rain-scented soil, hearts wilt and die. In the light, where words speak halved thoughts and poetry kisses riddles, stories will die. I hear it. I think it… Then, that something that binds us (do you know what it is?), that thing made of mud, daydreams and wild bits of you and me, fills my bones with chants of Maybe… and I know better—stories only die if you let them and hearts always live if we read.

Making bright
out of the shadows,
the soul smiles…
while I remember
the power of ink.

the (not so) wee notes…
– Last Sunday, I wasn’t having the best of days. I was feeling a bit gloomy, out of sorts… So, I put on my super-power skirt (everybody should have something—in their closet, bookcase, wallet…—that instantly fills them with good memories. I wore the skirt in question, for the first time, during a dance while I was a junior in high school, the same night I figured out that life was freaking weird, but since I was weird, too, then life was yummy). Anyhoo, I put on brown combat boots and my super-power skirt and a dear friend and I went thrifting. The thrift shop was closed when we got there, so we laughed a tad madly, went to the grocery store and bought two pies (I got peach!), and life was yummy. When I saw this rather dark picture (below), taken on the bus on our way back from pie shopping, I noticed how my smile shines through the gloom (I have super-power teeth, too), and I thought, Yep, life is yummy and then some.
– Linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads ~ Tuesday Platform.

Notice Her Bright

The night the sun loved the dark side of the moon,
oceans waved all the way to the clouds,
mountains quaked
until their centers felt heat from millennia past;
in New York City,
a blue jay forgot his green pepper pilfering fetish,
and sang of first lost loves…

After the celestial climax,
an angel of gold was born in suburbia;

made of light and shadow,
of universal love and magic lust,
she was perfect.

On her birth night, the angel flew
from one terrestrial corner to another,
laughing and shining…

wondering why so many of Gaia’s children
failed to notice her bright.

for Poets United, Poetry Pantry 262

Angel of Gold in Suburbia, by Michelle Kennedydetail from “Angel of Gold in Suburbia”, by Michelle Kennedy