Cathedral

“Trees are poems that the earth writes upon the sky.” From Sand and Foam, Kahlil Gibran, 1926

Step softly into this sacred space

Of prayers, whisper-soft

Carried on bird’s wings

To heaven, shining through leaves

Of stained glass.

Step softly into this cathedral

And walk into

The welcoming arms

Of God.

© Amy Porterfield 2020

Growing

I happened upon this tree while I was walking my dog and I was so struck by it. The tree has grown up through the fence, and now the fence is a part of the tree. I thought, well, it’s kind of like life, isn’t it? We don’t get to choose the circumstances into which we are born, or the obstacles and challenges we will face. But we were meant to grow through them. Our challenges make us who we are. They grow us into who we are meant to be.

That, and it also looks like the tree ate the fence.

om nom nom…

Cataclysmic Reductions

My response to today’s prompt at ‘Putting My Feet in the Dirt’, which can be found here:

October Writing Prompts

Today’s poem was inspired by this photo from my friend in Colorado, of the smoke from the fire near Estes Park (The Stanley Hotel from the Shining is there). She says the place this photo was taken is about an hour away from her home, and while she is fairly sure they will be safe, it is getting pretty close. Prayers for everyone affected by the fires in Colorado!

Cataclysmic Reduction, haiku

Fire on the mountain

cataclysmic reduction

rampant destruction

© Amy Porterfield 2020

Cowardly Connections

This is my response to the prompt for 10/23 over at October Writing Prompts.

(I’m a day late. Oops. But I really liked this prompt.)

But I wanted to do something different this time, so I tried a new form, Joseph’s Star, which I had never heard of but I found over at OctPoWriMo 2020. I was going to try to meld the prompts together but it was more than I could manage when it was so early and all.

Anyway, here is a Joseph’s Star poem about cowardly connections.

Troll

looking for

weaknesses exposed

a cowardly connection

your unabashed cruelty

missed it’s mark this time

you can’t hurt

me

© Amy Porterfield 2020

Seriously Sexy

(This is my response to today’s prompt at

https://puttingmyfeetinthedirt.com/2020/10/01/october-writing-prompts-3/ )

I see him,

he doesn’t know I’m watching.

The way he folds the laundry

while he watches TV,

the way he packs lunches,

the way he still hugs and kisses

our growing sons.

His gentleness with babies and kittens,

his tender heart.

His softness is his strength,

masculinity that isn’t toxic,

that bends but never breaks

is seriously sexy.