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Writing Prompts: The Perfect Time (to Start Again)

the perfect time (to start again)

(c) 10 Dec 2013 Windy Johansen

This time’s phrase is: the perfect time (to start again)

My creative writing often has these ideas of redemption and triumph as central themes; even if such ideas aren’t central, they’re typically woven through a work. I’ve had to start over so many times.

ANd as much tragedy as there can be in the things that make us start over, there’s often hope. Hope that this time will bring us closer to the best people we can be.

I think these moments give us the chance to be our own people. I think they also remind us of how delicate things in life can be…how delicate our own fellow beings are. I think these times of picking up the piece teach us to be kinder to the next person who goes through their own set of awful things.

I think that it makes our dreams and hopes capable of becoming far more rich and alive than they could be otherwise.

And at the same time, I really hate blazing through piles of tissues because I cried approximately 500 times today. But those things, those awesome things that grow out of this…brokenness…they’re grand. (And piles of dirty tissue is a small price to pay for that.)

I see this picture in my mind of dirt or soil broken into little jagged dry pieces. Those pieces are glass sharp enough to hurt you. The ground is rocky now; no water will ever make it produce life again. You’re sure it can’t.

You walk around a bit, picking past large shards. You stumble, fall, and dust yourself off. Ow. Owowow.

And then you see it…there’s this little plant growing a few inches from your toes. Somehow, life is still here.

You fell over that spot not long ago. Your blood must have given that seed just enough water to grow. You’re sure that has to be it. Otherwise that’d be a miracle.

Do miracles happen? N-no…Um..

The plant just continues to be there. It’s a bright green, with softly rounded leaves.

Do miracles happen?

And in that little plant..inside you, is this new promise: Tomorrow may not give you any rain, and the glass might hurt you, but there will always be bright things somewhere.

Unexpected life is extraordinary stuff. And as you look around, you spy other plants, even in places you haven’t been to.

Wow. The broken ground gave these little seeds room to sprout.

An embryonic forest of miraculous origin.

It’s the perfect time to start again.
———
How do you feel about these things?

<3

Destruction/Creation

a dark road, well traveled
but strangely empty then
a pole, barely noticed
what will happen?
then it hits, and everything seems over

(c) Windy Johansen

creation, an opportunity

(c) Windy Johansen

a bright room, just healing
and strongly fighting now
a pole, bearing treatment
what will happen?
now awake, and everything seems hopeful

(c) Windy Johansen

creation, an opportunity
fascination, a lifelong wish
communication, new life

(c) Windy Johansen

a sweet day, so blessed
that empty road was hope
a pole, keeping balance
what will happen?
now walking, and everything seems better

(c) Windy Johansen

concepts flying, wrapping around
concepts wrapping, embracing
osmosis, flowing through

(c) Windy Johansen

creation, an opportunity
information, a lifelong trek
imagination, new life

(c) Windy Johansen

creation, an opportunity
fascination, a lifelong wish
communication, new life

(c) Windy Johansen

creation, an opportunity
information, a lifelong trek
imagination, new life

(c) 25 September 2013, Windy Johansen.

———
I’m still uncertain of posting poems I’ve only written within the previous week. But this one is an interesting one, I think.

If you think this is a good poem, and then tell yourself how you could never do this…don’t say that to yourself. You can. Your voice has every right to be here, and it can say important and artistic things. We need our creative people. Especially now, but we always need creative people to remind us that complacency is not a particularly agreeable place for anyone to be.

If you hate it…well, I am still learning my craft. I might still get it right. :)

Thanks for spending time here, no matter what. Time is important, and I’m glad you chose to be here. <3

Concrete Midnight

concrete midnight
a hard landing
is that sanity spilled on the pavement?

(c) Windy Johansen

serene silence swells
a stark loneliness evaporating
while memories of sunshine return

(c) Windy Johansen

growing concrete
a dazed midnight
is that daylight spilled on the pavement?

(c) Windy Johansen

water rushing down
a sharp memory has recovered
as solitude in daylight deepens

(c) Windy Johansen

a fight within
a secret alley
concrete midnight
I wish I was more
more than I am
in this concrete midnight

(c) Windy Johansen

fatigue growing
one life’s hoping
is that confusion spilled on the pavement?

(c) Windy Johansen

immense secret peace
one spark opening understanding
so sanity will become larger

(c) Windy Johansen

a fight within
a secret alley
concrete midnight
I wish I was more
more than I am
in this concrete midnight

(c) Windy Johansen

midnight fatigue
a thrill’s texture
a new mosaic spilled on the pavement

(c) Windy Johansen

a fight within
a secret alley
concrete midnight
I wish I was more
more than I am
in this concrete midnight

(c) 21 January 2013, Windy Johansen.

“I never meant to hurt you.”

Stormy Trees

Stormy Trees. (c) May 2012, Windy Johansen.

“I never meant to hurt you.”

These are funny words. Not funny, “ha-ha”… funny, “oh, rats.”

The good guys say it. The bad ones say it. And if you’re in the wrong place and time, it’s all but impossible to tell who really means you harm.

I probably think about this more, being a victim of abuse in several forms. And yet, it can’t be just me who is horrified about how easy it is for the bad guys to look like the good ones.

I think though, if I listen to the Divine through the stillness, I will begin to perceive the fabric of another’s being. Not everything (that’s not fair!), but the part that’s important to the situation at hand.

If the person is awful they will say, “I never meant to hurt you” and appear to mean every molecule of that shaped breath. And I will see, under the shimmer, a terrifying, blaring something.

The once pretty fabric is aflame. One thread…several threads. I don’t know.

I will realize that this is their real intent. It doesn’t have to be all-encompassing, but it is there. Be it one thread or many, it howls. It flares… hotly, angrily.

No matter the shimmer, I will hear the words of the hot anger.

“I did mean to hurt you. I don’t really care.”

This is a signal flare. A warning. A cold wind fans the flames and makes me icy cold.

If this person is a good person, there may be signs of old anger. Thread sections still smoldering. But this is not the anger of recently fed flames.

Their mouth says, “I never meant to hurt you.”

And the tiny, slowly shrinking flames? “You know, I really didn’t want to do that. I’m sorry. I’m still learning. Forgive me, and I’ll try again. I love you enough to try again.”

And they will mean every molecule of the shaped breath. They will want to tell you what’s woven into the fabric of their being.

“I never meant to hurt you. I’m sorry. Can we try again? I wanted to get it right. I want to get it right. I might still mess up, but I want to get it right. For you and for all those that I love.”

“I never meant to hurt you.”

Glowing Tulip (c) Windy Johansen.

Glowing Tulip (c) May 2012, Windy Johansen.

Spent the day melting down.

This is not particularly inspirational, but it does show something of what I go through. I like being inspiring, but I want you to know that I’m not just someone who speaks of happiness without knowing pain.

And so, this post is about my day.

I spent the day melting down entirely. My psychologist’s report cannot get here soon enough. I want to know what’s happening to me. :( Is it anxiety? Obsessive-compulsive disorder? Nuclear strength depression? Borderline personality disorder? What is it?

I wasn’t entirely unproductive today. I did start (restart?) my online store, and put two photos in it. Each photo has 3 sizes available, so that was 6 listings.

Sunday is my day of rest, so Monday will bring more photos to my store.

I know, it seems weird to have a day of rest. Maybe it doesn’t. I know it keeps me sane, though, so that’s why I make sure to not work on Sunday.

I may occasionally write a Sunday/religious themed post, but I’m trying not to. This blog is becoming my job, and I have to have a day of rest, or I’ll wind up taking it when I don’t want to.

And I don’t want another day like today. That was not fun at all.