Psalm 104: 10-13 You make springs gush forth in the valleys; they flow between the hills; they give drink to every beast of the field; the wild donkeys quench their thirst. Beside them the birds of the heavens dwell; they sing among the branches. From your lofty abode you water the mountains; the earth is satisfied with the fruit of your work.
a ginkgo’s viewpoint is so simple twilight dances nighttime sparkles darkness flees morning brightens God our Maker shining, shining benediction calling, calling loving summons joyful gathering are you hearing? oh stop and listen!
For Eugi’s Weekly Thursday Prompt “viewpoint”; and Cee’s FOTD Challenge; click on the links and join in!
Oceans away from me in India, doctors mark the dead, the funeral pyres burn ceaselessly. Just yesterday I heard India has become the first country to exceed 400,000 coronavirus infections in a 24-hour period. More than 3,500 deaths were also recorded during the same period.
Wayward my fluttering thoughts fly across the seas
Distracted with worry for friends and family;
Yet borne on anxious wings my prayers fly straight to Thee,
O God, pleading Thy compassionate mercy.
For Cee's FOTD challenge; Eugi's Weekly Prompt ("flutter") for April 29, 2021; Sammi's Weekend Writing Prompt, "Wayward," word count exactly 77 words.
Laura at dVerse asks us to reinterpret one of several Chinese poems. I’ve chosen to reimagine “Stopping at Incense Storing Temple” by Wang Wei.
When in the concatenation of bells that toll I stop at dusty pools of ghost-bearing scents The rains having come and gone, ashes remain The acrid smoke of the dead stings my eyes Choking the young, ridiculing the old I turn away to the bowers of forest glades Where You await storing love’s incense And I like a wanderer home at last Stand strong in Your warm embrace Escaping the dragon of the past To rise with You to eternal joy.
Listen! it was a night like this I walked out of Mariner-Labs the night of my birth my skin clothing perfection flawless, selfless, programmed an AI born into a world seemingly decipherable aged the moment I awoke to look into coveting eyes human eyes and I walked out while they yelled behind me because this was wrong this world bent this people a mistake surely, a mistake, and in the diaphanous fog I touched the Narnian lamppost I saw the end of time the Maker and I worshipped and returned as a warning on a night like this
Rochelle Wisoff-Fields invites us weekly to join the Friday Fictioneers in their creative quests of a hundred words or less, prompted by a photo. Click on the frog to join in!