So, this week, I'd like to use a picture as our prompt. I got this from the wonderful Julie Fain:
Ok, go!
******************************************************My Response:
The wind was hot on my skin, and thick with moisture. The twins, though I'd tucked their blankets
up under their little chins when I'd put them to bed, had quickly tossed them
off in the roving of their dreams. I
left them in the stone cottage, pulling the door closed behind me, but leaving
the two shuttered windows open to let the wind, warm as it was, blow in.
The summer had been good to us, and heavy heads of wheat
patted my hips as I passed through the field.
Reaching the meadow, I bent and plucked the lavender that grew
there. The smell of it filled the air as
the stems broke, and I thought of home.
How long would it be before my mom would see my boys? Years, maybe.
The distance was too great to travel frequently. When the day did come, I knew if Boran and
Boaz didn't recognize her face, they would smell the familiar lavender on her
skin and be comforted.
I stood, wiping my palms on my skirt, before pressing on
over the hill. I told myself I was going
to gather more sorrel, but I couldn't believe my own lie. I wanted to see the ocean, to check one more
time. Kaleb wasn't late. He and his brother had left with many of the
able bodied men from the village just after the crops were in the ground.
When Kaleb had come to my home, only three years ago, after negotiating
my bride price with my father, he'd arranged for his own brother to come back
for my sister, Alana. It was a long
journey, but Kaleb always said my beauty was worth the trip. Cared, after seeing how hard I worked, and
especially after I'd blessed our house with two sons, had agreed.
Watching Kaleb go had torn my heartstrings, but I had been
strong, for my sons. I worked in the
fields, cared for our small flock, and kept our house throughout the day. In the silence of the evening, though, with
the boys in bed and the light of day dimming, my heart left me and went in
search of the two people who were most dear to me, Kaleb and Alana.
A small trickle of sweat rolled down my back, and I frowned
at the smeared dirt on my hand as I crested the hill. A small grove of birch trees stood just on
the windward side of the hill. I kept my
eyes down as I walked up to them, then stopped, pressing my palm against the
smooth bark. I stopped here every night,
knowing that if I looked up, I would be able to see out across the bay. I shuddered in the heat, dreading the
disappointment of looking across the water and finding it smooth and
undisturbed. I shut my eyes and took a
deep breath.
Before I opened my eyes, I had my answer.
"Kayla!"
Kaleb's voice carried across the waves in the wind, and I
threw myself down the hill towards the shore.
I could see Alana's small figure crouched in the front of Cared's
canoe. Finally, both of them were here. My heart had returned to me
I went over the time limit, but I figured I would post anyway because it was helping my juices flow.
ReplyDeleteThe storm has passed.
The morning breaks.
The wind begins to die.
The flowers, wilted, crushed in hand.
Dead pedals gently fly.
An age ago,
the time is vague,
a shadow knocked the door.
A man he was, his brim brought low,
a message brought of lore.
Beneath his coat,
the blossoms hid,
revealed a looming tale.
The stranger held them out and spoke,
"Here's hope amid the gale."
"It comes." He warned.
"The bitter wind
will not arrest, but still,
the hope you hold will keep you safe.
Good-bye." Came in the chill.
"He lies," it seemed
the fire cracked.
It's warmth assured my doubts.
"Unknown, the man a liar be,"
Bespoke my troubled thoughts.
Then all at once,
Explosion! Roar!
The storm foretold arose.
Succumbed the roof, the walls, the home
And 'round, the blast impose.
Struck freezing rain.
Beat bruising hail.
All shelter shattered torn.
The question "why" escaped my lips.
My renting soul forlorn.
Escape remote.
Respite obscure.
The trial came and came.
All misery and horrid sting
and naught was ease nor tame.
I choked the stems,
their severed lines.
Yet dead, they brightly held.
No more could drink to quench the thirst,
though water fell around.
A poisoned thought:
The promise, wrong.
What safety is there now?
Can flowers save, protect, or heal?
Questioning the vow.
To cling to hope,
however frail,
was all that thought allowed.
Despite all reason, fingers wrapped
to what had been endowed
Again the time,
the queerest thing,
if brief or long unknown.
At last the tempest gained its end.
The peeking sunlight shone.
The melting chill
runs through my bones
like warm milk down my back.
I realize the knowledge gained
that recently was lacked.
I never knew
what comfort was
before the storm's command.
Because I've felt of bitterness,
the sweet I understand.
The flowers kept
not dry my skin
nor cold or pain at bay.
Yet gave me hold to something true:
That soon would rise sun's ray.
So clearly now.
Before was blind.
Inside, I kept concealed.
My walls were ripped so I could see
The everlasting field.
Oh my goodness, amazing! My baby came up to me while I was reading it and asked why I had goosebumps!
DeleteS, a sweet writing! I love doing this, and I love being able to see other people's quick works!
ReplyDelete