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Posts Tagged ‘creative’

Blue

She was giving and kind. They worshipped her like a Saint.  She was of the earth and moved about the land like a breath of fresh air.

They said he was the Devil.  His was a craggy, worn exterior.  People avoided him.  He was hard they observed – probably cruel.  He was fire and ice.  He’d burn you if he could.

No one knew for certain how they’d come upon one another but they were concerned for she epitomized all that was good – but he was evil.

It was pure magnetism that pulled them together.  Opposites attract or so it is said.

It so happened that she’d heard a sorrowful sound and followed it until she happened upon him.  When she’d found him, he was like a pool of iced over water cracking, groaning and crying for help.  He craved warmth, she could see it.  The magic happened when she looked beyond his icy blue depths and into his soul.

To him, she was like a downy white quilt that wrapped his hardened exterior in warmth.  When he looked into the darkness beyond her eyes – that is when he melted.

She held out her hand and he readily took it.  Holding her tightly in his arms, he waltzed with her over the tapestry of the earth to music of the Universe.

With their spirits entwined, they balanced and danced, bringing the world alive with beauty.

And, the people worried over the change in him.  It seemed unnatural.

Now, consensus is that she’s a Sorceress – wicked.

While he…, he is merely a man who has fallen under her spell.

‘But not all opinions are equal,’ she reasoned. And, she did not hold the opinions of others.

She had awareness; an awareness that the others did not; for she knew what had happened when the eyes of fire and ice met the eyes of earth and air – two souls collided and became one.

‘Eyes are the windows to the soul,’ she knew and she knew the power of ‘love.’

She held the opinion, ‘When souls unite in balance and beauty, love is neither wicked nor evil.  Love is a gift found within the eyes for any who dare look into their depths.’

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She drifted on an endless tide.  Emotions lapped at her sides like waves.  Some passed her by believing her to be redundant.  Others saw her value and tried to bring her aboard.  She was very desirable, a streamline, timeless vision.  Her knotted, gnarly appearance only added to her mystic. Along with her intrigue, she held little bark. Truly, a quality piece, one that they could work with but her weight was camouflaged within her well hewn exterior and to their surprise, she was heavy.

They pulled, tugged, heaved and attempted to rope her in to no avail. (more…)

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Never underestimate your ability,

You are not static,

You are electrical,

You have power,

Generate the world,

You are the spark,

Light it up!

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“When the gruesome wind howls in the darkness and claws with destructive fingers at your barriers, you will be tempted to curl up into a ball and hide.  You may feel more inclined to seek a dark place to hide away and to think deep thoughts or to nurse an emotional wound.  It may seem like the natural thing to do.  It may even seem like the safest thing to do,” the demonic entity taunted.  “But in the end, these things will drive you to madness and I will win!”

“You have already won,” she conceded.

There was a certain acceptance and graciousness in the voice of the woman. Her surrender infuriated the entity. (more…)

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“Go ahead, you can pet her.  It’s okay.”

Little Britches eyed his father suspiciously, even at the ripe old age of two; he’d mastered the art of discernment.

Little Britches’ father was his hero. Still, he wasn’t totally convinced that petting that little bunting cow at the edge of the deck sniffing lilacs was in his best interest.  Heck, the cows buddy, a young golden lab, knocked him over in exuberant body wriggling, tail wagging licking episodes – and, that farm dog wasn’t as big as the mini black cow with the white face they called Mable!

Little Britches shoved his hands deep into the pocket of his jeans and shifted his weight from one rubber boot to the other, his bright inquiring eyes peering up at his father from below his Blue Jays ball cap. He needed a tidbit more encouragement before attempting, “Mission: touch-the-cow!” (more…)

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Antelope

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Earlier, he’d pursed his lips, tossed the newspaper aside and decided that even though the state of the world was depressed, he could still improve his grammar.   The word of the day was weltscherz; a noun meaning sentimental pessimism, sorrow that one feels and accepts as one’s necessary portion in life. (more…)

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