Petal by petal, each opening day
presenting itself in its perfect way.
Reveling in every moment sublime,
revealing nothing before its time.
The delicate softness, the biting thorn,
Something to celebrate, something to mourn.
Sticky sweet nectar the butterfly brings,
will also attract the honey bee stings.
The darkness, the light, embrace every day
Until, petal by petal, they all fall away.
A rusty, dusty instrument
abandoned on a shelf
used roughly and uncared for
it cannot play itself
but it still contains the music
that could stir the souls of men
it’s all inside, all it needs
is one skilled pair of hands
to pluck the strings
and make it sing
just like it did before
it was put away
to sit and stay
unused forevermore.
A blessing in disguise
is the very best kind.
When everything seems all wrong,
and your heart is wrung with sadness-
the proverbial ‘dark night of the soul’,
the breaking dawn reveals
a deeper understanding,
a deeper gratitude.
Pain is the price of wisdom.
In the coming year,
the only drama I want to see
is that of a bird taking flight,
or a riotous garden of blooms.
The only shade thrown is
sunlight through leaves.
The only influencer I want to follow
is the one who encourages me
to be still, the one who welcomes me
with branches spread wide,
like grandmother’s arms,
the one who caresses my face
with winds that whisper in high tree tops-
“Welcome home.”
© Amy Porterfield 2021
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
In response to February Writing Prompts over at Putting My Feet in the Dirt.
Beyond Bliss
Early morning sunshine, coffee,
snuggling snoring sleepyheads,
dry warmth in cold, wet weather…
When life seems increasingly complicated,
simple pleasures remain
steadfast as ever.
Understanding this
is joy beyond bliss.
© Amy Porterfield 2021
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
In response to February Writing Prompts at Putting My Feet in the Dirt.
A blue crayon
grasped in a chubby fist
made these marks,
that I can’t bring myself
to wash away.
One last reminder
of the baby you were.
Where my eyes see the boy you are,
and my mind imagines
the man you are becoming,
My heart holds my baby tightly,
like a blue crayon
grasped in a chubby fist.
© Amy Porterfield 2021
In response to February Writing Prompts at Putting My Feet in the Dirt.
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
playing in the dappled sunshine 