thomg’s three word wednesday: blink, occasion, kind
rebecca’s friday’s recuerda mi corazon [haiku my heart]
photo: female reed bunting, Ian A Kirk, flickr
possessing a bag of seeds was a kind weight. never felt heavy or burdensome. the notion of planting the empty field across the way was going to be an auspicious occasion. only now the soil rested in a deep surrounding silence.
washing the last of the dishes the open window carelessly captivates with possession. stretching she touches the great wind. and with willowy wings hovering over the vanished, she gazes at the gathering of seeds once scattered, revealing a buried task that took a time lasting long.
and now in the blink of an eye the end began. before her written in fine flare the notice had materialized. with wet hands she reaches and touches the great wind.
Piece of Pie ala Mode 
i love this. you have an interesting way of phrasing which leaves me hungry for more.
you have woven the ordinary with the sacred seamlessly.
delicious!
Ms. Pie,
This is almost imaginal work it seems. I am not certain if the person doing the dishes and thinking of planting seeds has suddenly shapeshifted into a bird. And I wonder about the significance of the planting of the empty field, with the soil resting in “deep surrounding silence.” Phrases like “the vanished” and “buried task” lead the mind to wander in the direction of loss. Willowy wings are sad wings, (weeping willow). The same goes for the gathering of scattered seeds. Even the notice she takes up in her wet hands at the end of the this little tale seems foreboding.”written in fine flare.” A flare is something that gets our attention. We throw it up in the air as a signal in the dark, usually in a state of difficulty. There is sacred mystery afoot here. This is my take on it Ms. Pie. I love your writing.
Noelle
hello noelle… i love to read the reactions of a story… and especially your comments as you always take the time to speak your thoughts… this particular story is a good story, focusing on the recovery not so much the damage… my thoughts on the willowy wings… as light and airy easy to pass through…. the fine flare i was thinking of an embossed invitation written in gold curleycue lettering, nothing foreboding… so it was with great interest that i read your comment… planting of an empty field how exciting and real and glorious… and of course sometimes we are appointed to a particular time to do a particular deed that has nothing to do with us other than we make ourselves available…. it is the task that is great not the person… for me the open window and the wind are everything….and who can scatter the seeds better than a bird…. eating digesting and the final act of depositing…. here and there or just right there…
for some reason I read these paragraphs in reverse.
and I loved it.
Amazing…
‘with willowy wings’..what a fantastic image and line..i love this series of bird photos and just wonderfully, affirming words..Jae đŸ™‚
Spiritual meanderings perhaps? I find myself becoming the birds or some other creature in nature. Sower of seeds, Joseph. That’s my name. Love this. Good job.
Peace
You capture such feeling here…the photograph is wonderful and has me aching from spring.
x..x
Noticing what goes on through windows is also a captivating pastime of mine, there is so much to notice even just through one window!
Thanks for this beautiful mysterious post,
Sue x
i simply love this piece of work. it’s magical. it makes one dream/ wonder at things that can be.
Hi Ms. Pie~ You really possess a gift for writing. This is poetic and intriguing. My instinct says that doom lies in the distance–a lot of tension building up here. Now I want more!
What a contemplative poem. There is so much to think about because the direction keeps changing, much as the wind does. Beautiful.
beautiful and kind of haunting, I think.