Poetry Pebbles

Leaves dance while we talk
filling and tilting when full
       bright green teases gray
each leaf patient in this incessant rain.


There are 2 cool poetry prompts going on now- Mindful Writing and

A River of Stones .  Both are about paying attention, being present.  The later offers a daily poetry challenge for July- to take notice of the world  around us in some small way everyday.  With the musical Muses ruling me etherial now as i finish songs & lyrics (they can really make me spacy), these prompts sound perfectly grounding.  This and making jewelry- working with stones.  I will likely post in chunks so i don’t bother everyone with tiny daily posts.

From River of Stones:  “having a notebook, or a blog, and a vow to write one small stone in it each day can help you keep a sense of wonder about the world. Deciding to take part in the July challenge, to notice something each day and write about it, sets in motion that willingness to reach out – that willingness to really look and listen to the world – and to stand in awe.”

Thank you to Angie of Smoke for your inspiring posts.  Here is one of Angie’s wonderful poems.

I am sitting on my living room floor. the wood is warm in the sun. it holds me in grandmother’s arms. the indian is searching through kitchen cabinets. he wants rooibos; he wants it dark red. cigarette smoke coils around his head like a moulting snake. I watch it breathe. I smell its liquid skin. I tell him that smoking kills and he laughs. everything is death he says. death is life. he finds tea. he pours heat over dried leaves — they bleed. the house fills with the silence of plants, of consuming, of life.  I lay my hands on the soft-worn floorboards.

 I can hear trees sigh.

Author: tara linda

musician, poet, art and jewelry-maker

2 thoughts on “Poetry Pebbles”

  1. I have been indulging (rather than participating) in the July stones. Often my stones have been the impressions of the morning in summer – I often sleep in my office on a couch, with the window open and blankets thrown over me. I catch the sounds of the dawn and the first greyish light and my nose is sensitive to the ambient temperature. Other times I have reacted to a photo – maybe not what I was meant to do.

    I love your patient leaves in the incessant rain.


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