Waves

gold reaches  up to

kiss the rock’s chin with the mark

of the buttercup

-o.o-

Even the hardest of hearts can crack wide open, given the right sort of pressure. A sudden, shattering breaking or the slow, patient sculptor’s work of wind and water. Or the rolling back of a tombstone. How great, then, the light’s joy as it plays at illuminating the spaces once secreted away, clearing out all that was foul and stagnant.

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This entry was posted in haiku, loved into being, O!. Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Waves

  1. Beautiful picure and inspiring message, Julie. Needed both! Thanks! How’s that baby kicking? 🙂

  2. julie says:

    He’s doing great; I’m pretty sure he’s turning somersaults in there on occasion, and last week he got me way over on the side and it actually tickled. Very surreal 🙂

  3. mushroom says:

    Well said. And I like the cool new layout.

  4. Cathy says:

    Lovely conjoining of picture and prose.

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