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Posts Tagged ‘creative writing’

 

 

Never allow someone else’s idea of who you are to impede your growth,

Sway uninhibited to the rhythm of your heart and rise,

Even wild flowers on the Badlands let their true colors shine,

The most unique version of your self is wild and free.

 

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I have submerged myself into something unknown.  The path, still curvy feels pressurized.  It is turbulent at times and if I move against the flow, tire more easily. But, I know that is necessary to go against the norm.  My instincts drive me to do this.

Determination to reach my destination has caused me to focus on inner power.  This instinctual power causes adrenaline to surge through my body and I leap into the light only to splash down slightly further ahead.  The journey is almost complete. I can feel it.  I have worked hard.  Soon I can rest but not right now.  My body is aching.  I am hungry.  I have used up nearly all of my reserves just to get this far.  Surely, I will die completing this labor of love.  I must eat.  That is when I spot it, a tidbit to feed my starving soul.  I snatch it up barely missing a hook.  Next time I will be more careful, not everything edible along this path is safe.

I hope the morsel will be enough to propel me to where I need to be.  A knowing fills me and I dive deep into dark shadowy depths.  My lungs feel like they will explode as a vise-like grip grabs hold of my body and forces a vaporized bubble from my lips then I hit bottom. (more…)

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The North American Buffalo (Bison) Calf;

Otherwise known as a Bobblehead…

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This golden flower is known as a buffalo bean, prairie bean, golden banner and prairie pea.  These flowers  bloom during 

late May or early June. The buffalo bean can be found in open sandy areas of the prairie and aspen forests where water tables are high. 

The golden bean flowers were once used as a cure for stomach disease and its roots used as a horse medicine.

Dye was made from the yellow flowers and used by the First Nations People to color arrows and skin bags.

Most importantly, the appearance of this golden pea-like flower was used as a form of phenology (study of nature) by the First Nations People because upon its arrival, the spring hunt for buffalo bulls could resume.

 

Warning:  The pea shaped pods of a buffalo bean should never be consumed as they are poisonous!

 

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Prairie Smoke

I don’t mind spotting this type of smoke on the prairie!

This little flower is called, ‘Prairie Smoke.’  Otherwise known as Geum triflorum, three flowered avens or old man’s whiskers.

The flowers on this perennial herbaceous plant bloom from mid-spring to early summer. 

They grow wild on the prairie but you can also purchase them from your local greenhouse and plant them as perennials in your flower garden.

Native Americans and early settlers once used the root from the Prairie Smoke to treat colic, fever, coughs and stomach ailments with tea made from its roots. 

It was even used in the treatment of Tuberculosis (TB) an infectious disease that affects the lungs and other parts of the body.  

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“I am a weaver; a weaver of words.

Writers are weavers of words.

I am a writer. 

Oh, what tales we Weaver’s weave when our well scripted words are spun together into a magical yarn.

I am a writer; a weaver of magical yarns. 

I am a Weaver; a weaver of magical yarn.

I am a Weaver.”

 

 

I have always been a fan of folklore, myths and parables.  Recently, I came across the story of a Wise old Weaver woman hidden in a cave. Every culture has mystical tales that tell of Weaver’s hidden in places unknown or away from civilization.  Their only company a big black dog. They weave beautiful capes, robes or blankets with ethereal cords from the cosmos which are never completed because chaos (the dog) intervenes to unravel their work, at which point the Weaver’s begin again.  The myth is that if the Weaver ever completes their work, the world will end.  These Weaver’s have been creating this article of beauty since the beginning of time.

During the winter months, I began to weave.  It all started because of boredom.  I am an active person.  I don’t deal well with boredom.  Boredom led me toward the need to purge.  It’s astounding the amount of items that one accumulates and then holds on to for no real reason.  The time had come for me to remove needless items from my home – make more space – let’s say; in those dark, shadowy closeted spaces one like me hesitates to venture into.

I read a piece of prose by Andrew The Lonely Author at www.thelonelyauthorblog.com ; it started with, “love hung in her closet,” what an enchanting thought!

I am a little terrified of what might be hanging in my closets – cobwebs and skeletons.  But, there is proper timing for everything and the time for purging was now. (more…)

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The animals are confused.  They have noticed we human beings are suffering.  They have gathered about me to convey their concern.

“What can be done?” I ask.  “I have been through the dark tunnel of despair. I am loathe to go there again.  The air inside the void is stagnant yet fraught with turbulence and electricity.  It smells sour.  The land is picked clean.  It has become barren, a desert. The people are starving.  They are dirty because there is no water left for them to wash and they have abandoned the search.  They are so entrenched in their own inner pain, they cannot see beyond the horizon.  I do not want to enter there again!  If I survive the dream walk, I will emerge weak and vulnerable myself.”

I hear Hummingbird laugh.  He is laughing at me!  I am angered by this and my belly begins to boil.  Annoyed, I reply to Hummingbirds laughter.

“I was ordered not to re-enter the dark realm.”  But even as I utter the words, I realize my ego was the voice which did the ordering.  I take a deep breath and calmly exhale.  Smiling now, I thank Hummingbird.  He is very wise.  Humbly, I admit I have been allowing my ego to rule my destiny.  My instinct now is to return to the awareness of my heart.  My heart is the safest place to be. (more…)

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The word for today is “thing”.

I have developed a fondness for the word “thing”- albeit, it is somewhat of a love/hate relationship.

My use of the word “thing,” usually coincides with episodes in my life where I know that if I am using the word “thing,” I am experiencing some type of mental block.  At these times, it is as if the universal vacuum has descended from above to clean out my cranium.  Just like any other vacuum, the universal one can accidentally suck up useful things as well as cobwebs.

The universal vacuum likes information.  And, just for your information, I am all for loosing such things that constitute life’s most embarrassing moments from my memory bank.

But does it really need to suck out my brain’s capacity to access its inner dictionary?

At such seemingly unintellectual times; those I can only define as brain dead moments, it makes me wonder – where’s the thing?  Meaning, my brain! (more…)

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