Vast and clear
For Ronavonwrites weekly haiku prompt #69: the words are haiku and mind.
mind the haiku, it
hikes to your mind, grind, work, find
hike to clear mind, do
The photo, well, it is my camera…..
Prayer for a dream
Last night before I went to sleep, at 7 pm because I had had an exhausting trip to a lung specialist, I prayed for a dream.
I asked the Beloved to send a kind dream, a beautiful dream, a comforting dream to a friend. He says that he remembers all his dreams and they are all terrible. He has only told me one, a battle dream. He is protecting his teenage son in it.
So I woke with a vivid dream: I dream that I am at his house outside. His home is by the woods and I am in love with the forest. It has downed logs and deep loam and mushrooms and slugs and birds and small dark squirrels. I was the only woman in the dream and the only person. The others, including him, are shadows. I am digging in the duff quite happily, messing around, and listening. They were talking about cars and engines and repairs.
I am digging in the duff and keep finding things. Bits of metal, pieces of something. They are covered with rotting forest material that smells wonderful. One of the shadows holds a box out to me, about 8 by 8 inches square, to put the pieces in. I uncover one more. I lift it. It is a crown.
It is not a crown. It is a headband, but a hat too. I have a number of these headpieces. I like the ones with feathers sticking up, that make me look like a slightly deranged bird. People can’t follow conversations when the feathers move. It is fun to watch.
But this headband is metal and it has gems. I brush it off and the shadows stop talking and look. They move forward and then back away, leaving only my friend.
I have a moment of regret. We are now all sure that the other pieces have gems too. A robot? A statue? Made of metals. This is a puzzle and I am good at puzzles. But it is not mine. I will not put anything in the box.
His shadow looms over me and I look up. The sun is behind him, so all I see is a dark shape. I wake up as I hold out the headpiece. The pieces are his. I don’t know if he knew they were there. I was just playing in the loam. He will have to decide: more digging or to bury them again.
BLIND WILDERNESS
in front of the garden gate - JezzieG
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𝖠𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖶𝗈𝗋𝖽𝖯𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌.𝖼𝗈𝗆 𝗌𝗂𝗍𝖾.
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