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What Does the Wind Carry?

What does the Wind Carry?

What does the Wind Carry? (c) 2016 Windy Johansen

What Does The Wind Carry?
harsh winds
what do they carry?
isn’t it just air?

a sound to shatter the skies erupts
and rocks break into sand
as if they were made of glass

a sound to shatter the skies erupts
and glass breaks into sand
as if it was made of foam

everything crushed
beneath my diamond will
do you taunt me still?

harsh winds
what do they carry?
remnants of sand

— (c) 2016 Windy Johansen

Telling Positive Stories to Ourselves

So I’ve been thinking about a lot of things. (That happens in the span of more than two years.) I thought about the stories we tell ourselves.

I like positive stories. I think that’s because my mental landscape creates dystopian fiction at an alarming rate.

I know dark, gritty stories might seem more realistic. There is a realism in admitting to ourselves that people aren’t perfectly good or perfectly bad. Life isn’t always full of “happily ever after”. Life is messy and imperfect.

And then there’s this excerpt from a Superman comic. Continue reading

Writing Prompts: Broken Times

kaleidoscope

(c) 12 Nov 2013 Windy Johansen

Write something that incorporates this incomplete poem.

broken times
but we still have all the right pieces
corrosive times
but we are still worthwhile people
broken times
but we are still moving, rebuilding
and we are still working, working
broken times

Use either the actual words, or if you like, write about these rebuilders. What pieces do they have? How much do they have to rebuild (bridge, city, country, civilization, or world)? How did they keep hope alive? Is this part of a speech a leader is giving?

<3

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

Poem: Searching for One Moment

kaleidoscope

(c) 12 Nov 2013 Windy Johansen

on this separate road
we’re crawling among the pebbles
among the sharp pebbles

on this separate road
we’re searching in this stale desert
in this stale desert

searching for one moment

you and I cry
and we cry and, oh
in crying we become

a fountain gushing
sadness is, sadness is,
an unfinished statement
sadness is, sadness is
sadness is not everything

and there will be a new day

in these desperate eyes, you’ll see
we’re changing into new people
into new people

searching for one moment

you and I cry
and we cry and, oh
in crying we become

a fountain gushing
sadness is, sadness is,
an unfinished statement
sadness is, sadness is
sadness is not everything

and there will be a new day

nevermind yesterday
searching for one moment
nevermind tomorrow
searching for one moment
nevermind our whole future
searching for one moment, one single moment

(c) 31 July 2013 Windy Johansen