28 sept 2011 >5/14 > Hierophant/Alchemy/Art
How many ways do you consider yourself a creative being?
What gets in the way of your being a creative being?
How will you get out of the ‘stuck’ box you’re in?
I don’t where the entire year has gone. How about you? Summer was a hot mess and not enough of the glory of how lovely it can be. Fall, my fav’ season is coming into her colour this week. Harvest time is full on. I wish to enjoy the changes before Winter rolls on in and takes over.
So… if you read that bit of flash fiction yesterday, I’d love to hear some feed back. Don’t be shy. I’m experimenting. Really, this whole dang blog is an experiment and an opportunity to indulge the poet that I feel I am. All rough drafts and one day, I hope to gather a few of my favs and do a little poetry book. oooooooo…
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She sat at Creativity’s gate
outside, crossed legs, hopeful
She sat there while others
walked passed and through
reciting poetry, carrying the
colour wheel as a banner,
singing celestial songs
She knew those songs by heart
poetry was the language of her soul
She was a living rainbow
and there she sat outside
Creativity’s Gate
crossed legs
hopeful… waiting
It wasn’t invitation only
There wasn’t a specific hostess
fame wasn’t necessary or needed
being good or bad didn’t matter
there was no protocol at all
Just a gate that had a sign
that said… Creativity.
She sat there meditatively posed
A satchel of trinkets and pens
and a little blue leather journal
filled with her soul’s words
She watched the world pass her by
through the floral gate to her
destination’s call.
And call it did right to the core of her
Right to the very soul of her
sketched and etched in the little blue
leather journal that held everything
and nothing that was all about her.
All about everything and nothing.
Music filled the wind and her voice
Her voice caught the harmony of it All
She stretched and rose to to greet the Song
Gathered her cherished satchel and
soul-full words as if in a trance
She passed through the gate with the
sign that said Creativity
She was rainbow of words spoken
dancing for the life of her.
