In Life’s Mirror #poetry #uganda #photography

In the mirror of a water bucket I see:

A blur of color

children with bright hearts

flames cannot douse courage

little girls pump, pump, pump

feet steadily move up the hill

“more water”

little heads bear yellow water jugs

school books brown edged

blue chairs too hot to touch

 ashen are next day’s reflections

 parents anxious to know education’s fate

stories told, songs we sang, things we made

in the mirror of my heart

 stout hearts of orphans

 smiles contagious

 over flow of son’s rays of love

*

Fire rages fierce

days merge breeze takes them away

color filled smiles

 

Today’s prompt at Poet’s United is “Mirror.” 

Mirror Image #art #sundaydevotion #poetry

img_1490

Percieved image

momentary

seems so real

blurred

can’t see clearly

thought can delude

images

take new form

mirror taken away

I see truth

sunlight bright

freed to be

Me

The search to “find oneself” is an ongoing quest. Looking in the mirror doesn’t always help.

Maybe because it’s a distorted image of who we really are.

Don’t cease the search, but remember the Master knows  (and sees) the real you.

The unveiling will occur one day and we will behold not only self but Truth with no obstructions.

 

“Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”

John 8:32

“Now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I will know fully just as I also have been fully known.”

1 Corinthians 13:12

New Normal #poetry #art

Cassatt

her neck touched by a blunted blade

it left her headless, what a shame

new body formed,  paper mache

chique her skirt in prison gray

couldn’t set her clothes on fire

they were made of chicken wire

maison we shared looked like a box

a cage with one enormous lock

she held her broken mirroire high

the birds had picked away her eyes

madness in Forth, oh what a shame

I never even caught her name

 

*Forth is a small village in Scotland

 

The prompt at Poet’s United this week is “Weird”. Lewis Carrol inspires weird as does a modern sculpture I saw this past weekend.

Photo: Close up of Mary Cassat’s beautiful painting “Mother wearing a sunflower on her dress.”

 

Can’t Be Seen #devotion #poetry

car image

Look closely in the mirror

I want to clearly see

instead an image blurry

 lacks much clarity

Intently like a  fox

I daily chase the thought

seeking more the truth

“run the race” is what I’m taught

believe what you don’t see

peel back all the lies

so much have you been given

a faith to set you free

Faith is something you are given not something you can learn in a textbook. It is a belief in something you can’t see. Close your eyes and believe in the truth, it will never mislead.

“But prove yourselves doers of the word, and not merely hearers who delude themselves. For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks at his natural face in a mirror; for once he has looked at himself and gone away, he has immediately forgotten what kind of person he was.…”
James 1:23 & 24
“For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.”
1 Corinthians 13:12
Shared with Godinterest

No One Can Keep a Secret #haiku #photography

Today our third episode of  ”Full Circle”, a special feature at our Carpe Diem Haiku Kai Special  weblog,  and the goal is to write haiku with the twelve (12) words I will give. It’s a kind of word-whirl and you have to use the words given in the clock-wise direction. So every word has to come in the line of it’s place on the clock e.g. mirror you have to use for line one (1) and leaves for line two (2) and so on.

The goal is to write haiku using the 12 words as given in the clock wise way.

Here are the 12 (twelve) words for this new episode:

  1. mirror
  2. leaves
  3. rain
  4. butterfly
  5. chrysanthemum
  6. breeze
  7. stars
  8. clouds
  9. ocean
  10. daisies
  11. cow shed
  12. secret

it’s  in the mirror

fluttering leaves carry it past

spilt in the rain

*

on butterfly wings

chrysanthemum join whispers

carried on the breeze

*

stars seem to hear

what the clouds cannot  hold

caught on ocean’s spray

*

sunny faced daisies

gossip in the cow shed

no one holds a secret

***

What tale can you weave with these 12 words???

Don’t Look Back #poetry #photography #relationships

Those are my bridges burning

in the rear view mirror

deep breath

 someday it will end

Rocks to climb

they are before us

we’ll get hurt

through life’s turns and bends

desert rocks

put away the thoughts

that are behind now

that pain can never

change

keep driving toward

tomorrow

the clouds promise

clearing rain

Golden Mesa

then one day

look in the mirror

reach for beauty

once out of range

dance in moonlight

embrace the forest

new life

blots out old stains

pink rose

Each week Poet’s United provides great prompts. This week the prompt is mirror. Susan also encouraged us to integrate a true story. poets united

Photography: All images were taken on a trip along Route 66 (a southern highway in U.S.)

Girl Ghost #NWCU #photography

Sometimes it’s best not to look at the reflection…

Captive in the frame

Welcome to Wednesday Wake Up Call. I’m hosting today. Hope you enjoy the prompt.

I can’t tell you how long ago it was.

Sometimes it seems like yesterday – the first time I saw her face.

There was something so familiar, though I could not quite define it.

She looks so alone that girl frozen in the mirror.

What was it she saw that caused such terror?

Her eyes are like magnets I can’t look away.

Please tell me your story. I implored on this day.

An icy hand grasped mine and took me to a place behind the staircase.

Things too horrible to be told were there. A place that was beyond cold.

A smile of knowing was glazed on a horrible eyed half face. “you are us now” he grinned.

Now there is a new face in the mirror. I have taken her place.

Please set me free!!!!!

Photograph “Ghostly Image” L. Moon copyright 2011

I took a picture of this painting at a B&B. The mansion had a long history. I wondered if there was a girl captured in a frame.  I think the reflection of the staircase makes the picture more complicated. Would love to know what this inspires in others…

What Lies in the Mirror? #magpietales #poetry

Look into a reflection – you might see truth you might see lies

I looked upon the reflective source of yesterday

 daring not enter my gaze too deep

for the closer I wandered in my mind

the more one I would become with said image

a mere reflection “no”

for there I see you

you the one who feigned connection

believing you as a part of me

told me things I longed to hear

whispers long in the night

 into my lonely ear

caused longing for something that was never

and like a fool I harkened to a voice

fractual promises never granted

realizing my blunder

I inserted into the mirror

my empty heart

whether from love or naught

left said reflection in your hands

do not believe the smile is for you

This piece of prose is a late offering to the respected hostess of Magpie Tales – Tess Kincaid where weekly she gives writers a prompt challenge.

Woman in the Mirror #shortstory

Have you ever visited an antique and met a ghost from the past or two?

It was a wet rainy day. I really was not intending to browse in the musty antique store but at that moment I was passing  there was a fierce downpour which forced me indoors. I tried to take a deep breath but the dust clogged my nostrils;  I forced myself to breath as little as necessary.

“Welcome” the old shopkeeper smiled an aged, toothless smile. I gathered she was as old as some of the pieces. “Please tell me if I can be of assistance deary”.

I walked around the cluttered rows of dingy furniture.  “Ah light,” I gasped as I took the stairs two at a time. ” Maybe there will be something worth looking at up there and perhaps less dust.” I said in a hushed voice realizing her hearing was also ancient.   “Squeek, clop, clop” I sounded like a horse  on wooden slats.

At last I was upstairs. I turned around in a room that seemed so airy and springlike. I could almost hear birds chirping. The sun was streaming in from a skylight. “How is that possible?” I shook my head as if in a fairy tale.  I minded little the time I might spend here. I looked at item after item – each “one of a kind” in my estimation. Then I felt warmth as if a hand touched mine. I looked down and my hand was resting on a beautiful yellowing mirror. The lines from the elephant tusk were obvious as I ran my hand over the smooth  ivory. I felt the need to see if the mirror was cracked so I turned it over. As I gazed at myself, I was shocked at what I saw.

“I dont own a brocade, three-quarter sleeve gown. What am I thinking? I dont own any gowns.”  I heard a whisper from behind me. It must be an open window. Then I heard it clearly.

” Come close let me look at you.”

” Who are you, ” I asked trying to keep the trembling in my voice down.

“My name is Janille Constantine.”

” My name is Malina.”

” I  like that name Malina. I have never heard that name before. Have you seen him today?” she asked in a beautiful lyrical voice.

“Have I seen whom?”

” My lover of course. We are supposed to meet here so that my intended would not see us.” Janille giggled with mirth.

” No I am sorry what does he look like? ”

“He is very handsome. He rides the blackest of stallions and his blue eyes carry mischief  and love.”

” I’m sure if I saw him I would remember him.” I had to look again into the mirror as I was certain that I could not be carrying on this conversation with myself.

“Yes he always wears a bowler hat and carries a smart cane.”

“Where do you live?” I asked.

“Why on Jersey shore of course my dear. I am from the Constantine family; we live in a darling home on the sea-shore in the summer and we return to our plantation in the fall once the disease has left the lowlands.”

“My what an exciting life you must lead. I would love to see your home. ”

“Yes alas I believe once papa knows about Roland he will send me away to my aunt’s.” her r rolled in a perfect southern drawl.

“What about your intended?”

“Oh Joseph. He is a good boy but he is not a man who knows the world. He is protected by his mama.”

“Oh” I started to smile. I had dated someone like that and was glad the “love of my life” lived on the edge.

“Then why don’t you break it up with Joseph? ”

“Well I have discussed it with Roland he always tells me no and tells me to shush.”

Just then I heard the sound of a gun shot.

” Oh my what am I to do? What is it?”

“A man has been shot outside of the shop. You must hide – please hide.”

“Where? ”

“Under a bureau!”

“Yes I will.”  I held my breath waiting as I heard the pounding of footsteps on the stairs as suddenly as they came up they went back down.

“No one is here. That scoundrel Roland.”

” He’s dead.”  I heard a mouse like  voice.

” Murielle your husband was a cheat and a gambler. It is better this way come home with your older brother.”

I heard crying as a face came back into view. “They killed him my Roland. Who was the woman? Oh my I guess he was married. I never knew.”

“But you are safe Janille.”

“Yes I am I will return to my papa’s home in South Carolina. I will never return here again.” She tried to sound brave but her voice could not countain the soft cries.

“Goodbye Malina.” a sweet voice said and then the mirror went dark.

When I went home I googled the name of Constantine. There it was the picture of the beautiful, young woman I had spoken with. She had unexpectedly died by gunshot in the street in New Jersey on her way home.

I looked up the name of Roland and found several who lived in the area then I saw him. The most daring and compelling blue eyes and I knew why she had loved that captivating man.

I went back to the antique store on another rainy day. I was curious to see whom I might meet…

This short story was inspired by the elephant tusk mirror that was an heirloom and an archived poem I wrote.

Photograph: “Gradma’s Mirror”  L. Moon copyright 2011

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