Autumn Morning

Autumn morning,

golden, delicious,

crisp as a ripe apple.

Rising sun

lifting a blanket of fog,

waking the world,

whispering secrets into the wind.

Listen.

Be still, and listen.

© Amy Porterfield 2021

Burying Yesterdays

In response to February Writing Prompts at Putting My Feet in the Dirt. (I love these prompts! Thank you so much for the inspiration!)

Burying Yesterdays

I buried my yesterdays,

buried them deep

in the rich earth.

I nourished them with tears,

warmed them with joy,

and watched them grow

into a beautiful today,

fortified by wisdom,

wanting nothing more

than to stand in the

light of now

and be happy.

© Amy Porterfield 2021

Photo by Felix Mittermeier on Pexels.com

If I Were the Wind

In response to February Writing Prompts at Putting My Feet in the Dirt.

Photo by Nita on Pexels.com

If I were the wind,

I would tousle your hair,

caress your face,

and whisper in your ear.

I would lift ladies’ skirts

and snatch men’s hats

to make you laugh.

I would clear your cloudy skies,

keep your kite aloft,

but steal your balloon.

Love and loss are so intimately related.

I would lay flower petals,

seeds, and feathers at your feet.

I would lift your prayers to heaven.

And I would carry your scent,

and the echoes of your voice with me

forever and ever.

© Amy Porterfield 2021

Soggy Socks

After a drizzly morning,

clearing clouds reveal

the remnants of a rainy day.

Pooling puddles shine

like mirrored glass

on the sidewalks,

just right for jumping.

Little legs running,

frog-hopping feet

splish-splashing,

sending water flying.

Soaking sneakers, soggy socks,

and a little boy

bending to examine

a wriggling worm.

© Amy Porterfield 2020

Photo by Matthias Zomer on Pexels.com

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…