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.
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
I’ve been interested in photography as a hobby for a while now, but I have found it to be prohibitively expensive. So, several years ago my husband bought me some little lenses that stick on your phone’s camera. He found them on Groupon Goods for $7. You can read more about them here. The set came with a wide-angle lens and a fish-eye lens, but I have had the most fun with the little macro lens. We are having a real winter here for the first time in ages, and I was able to get up close and personal with some flurries.
We are expecting several more inches of snow over the next few days. This will be the biggest snow event we’ve seen since I was little, and I’m so excited for my kids to experience a “real” winter snow! Hopefully I’ll be able to get some good shots of the kids and the snow this week. Fingers crossed that we don’t lose power during all this. I made sure to get our bread and milk yesterday 🙂
Stay safe and warm, and enjoy the snow!
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
“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
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…
In response to November Writing Prompts at https://puttingmyfeetinthedirt.com/.
I went for a walk today to take in what may be the last of the fall colors. Most of the trees are near naked now, but I did capture a few gems.
The colors have been beautiful this year, a literal feast for the eyes. Autumn is my favorite time of year.
I went walking
in the early hours of a day
of a dying summer,
and I happened across
a butterfly.
So beautiful and delicate,
the vivid black and yellow
of a tiger swallowtail,
fanning wings in the
early morning sun.
So struck was I
by its loveliness
that I almost didn’t notice
that it perched atop
a steaming pile
of dog shit.
And I thought to myself,
“I, too, have landed
in unfortunate circumstances,
either because of bad luck
or poor decision making,
but it was always up to me
how long I stayed there.”
The butterfly lingered
longer than I felt was appropriate,
only taking flight when
my dog went in for a sniff.
I walked away, disgusted,
acknowledging that
there is just no accounting
for taste.
playing in the dappled sunshine 