Routine, rummage roughly, rest, realization.
Reality reckons, routine ruined, remember, reason.
Rise.
Weekly Writing Challenge: Time For Poetry
I tried something new here, I have never attempted a poem that uses the same starting letter, but I used this weeks challenge as an opportunity to try something new.
I went for a walk the other day near my house. My goal was to capture Spring, and the rebirth of nature. However I was surprised to find winter’s grasp still clinging on, the snow and ice hiding in shadows. I decided to try and capture the last of Winter instead of the beginning of spring. Enjoy.
Joy, pure joy! Today, today has come! I leap from sleep, immediately awake at the prospect of the coming day. It has arrived, finally. I rush to the purchase, nothing else matters today. I arrive home, the screen is on before my coat is off. Time to play, happiness finally!
Gold, it sits upon his head. He sees all, his control is total. Our lives are his, subjects, serfs, rats, insignificant. We are his. Gold, it controls them. Change will come, Gold will not sit for long on his dome. Tonight, tonight it will fall, along with the regime. Tonight.
The waves, they rise ever higher. The sea rolls, creaks and cracks erupt all around, the darkness of the deep overwhelms all. Wood splinters, and the endless black engulfs. The void welcomes us, our new home for eternity, we sleep soundly beneath the sky, beneath the waves, in the deep.
The watching, waiting, perfect stillness, then a perfect reward, the SNAP of the shutter.
Life, I watch and wait, ever ready for the next SNAP, I thirst for it, the desire higher than any other.
After each SNAP, relief washes over me, soon though the urge returns. I am addicted.
Just after New Years I decided to go for a stroll, my house is out in the bush, on a lake. This makes for awesome winter walks and great summer afternoons. I took my camera and tried to capture the -30 degree day as best I could.
The snow was deep, over 3 feet. Every step was work, but every step was worth it. The crevasses in the snow show a frozen world under the snow.
I love the way snow forms. There is a sense of wonder brought on while looking at the shapes created by the snow.
The serpents of winter show themselves. They prefer to hang around on branches during the day. At night they dive back into the frozen depths.
A frosted toad stool. 
I sit here, staring, blank. My mind, so focused on the world in front of my eyes, I cannot tear myself away. Thoughts elude me, time slows to a crawl. I keep staring, hoping, willing for something to happen. I look away and time jumps, minutes soar by. Pass. Fail?
Neiti
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If you have a story, it is yours, but once you tell your story, in whatever form; poetry, short story, interview, song... It is no longer story yako, it is now story yetu. You and me, the world. It will have inspired, entertained, educated or informed someone. Let us tell our stories... Story zetu.
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