Writing Prompt #4

We did not know what love was
We thought it was becoming one another
Or losing our identity
We thought it was being there
Without giving
Without listening
We thought it was losing our voice
So we could create a brand new reality

We did not know so we tried
We fought battles so we could stop the tide
From taking us afar with no chance of coming back

We did not know but we played the game
Thinking that feelings would keep us safe
And sane

We kept putting love
Into brackets
Trying to define it
Without the correct lens

Till
We became two strangers

Walking into darkness
Tears falling on deserted gardens
Where flowers could not bloom

We did not know what love was
We broke each other’s hearts
Till there was nothing left
But empty fields
With holes where we could hide
Thinking it would end the madness
That kept us in a delusive togetherness

This is a text written as part of Writing Prompt proposed by Mona

The hardest part

@Marie Kléber

It’s the hardest part

And the most delicious one

Allowing you into my world
Allowing me to be as I am
Without unecessary embellishment
Letting the past dying in forgotten lands
And welcoming the truth of Love

Writing Prompt #3

Find me by the river
Where we first met
The night a rain of stars fell
On the lake
Turning blue ink into
A myriad of colors

Tears fading as the light
Came through
Showing us the way
Towards eternity

We are children of the earth
Resting our heads
On the skyline

Finding solace
In the knowledge that
No scars or pain
Can break the bond
That link us together
Here and above

Here is my text for the writing prompr proposed by Mona on her blog. Check it out for more!

Writing prompt #2

You came and you lifted the veil.

From one generation to the other, we were girls. We carried the burdens of the past. We could feel strings taking us back, when we tried to move on and build our life.

We were like flowers ready to bloom and wiped out by a wind of memories.  The story would keep repeating itself. A story of thorns and bloody drama.

Till you came.

A little boy in a precious basket. Like a messanger from above. Like you were send by angels to peace my heart and give me reasons to hope. The link of pain was severed.

When I look at you, I picture us in a garden full of beautiful roses, blue sky and fairy tales, trees bending to welcome us. Hand in hand we are strong to face the world.

This is my entry to the Writing Prompt by Mona.

Grand-father blessing(s)

@Marie Kléber

Days come and go. You are somewhere and everywhere. Never too far away.

What days look like when you are not part of the world anymore, when you wander in galaxies, sky and stars, no limit?

What do you do for hours when there is no more agenda, no night and light, when wholeness and emptiness mean the same?

There were happy days – childhood memories. And then something happened. You left. You died and we knew it. We knew it would happen. We knew it was just a matter of months. We knew and we closed our eyes. Cause you were special. Maybe we thought you couldn’t die. We were not ready for it. I was not ready for it. We’re never ready to welcome death.

Some people say that love ends. I might be crazy but I know somehow this is a lie. Maybe it serves people who don’t want to see the light shining through the clouds.

We loved each other before we met. And love is still playing in the background. You know everything. I can confess you all my deepest joys and pains, my shortcuts and my dreams.

You are somewhere. Not a body but a soul. And nobody can ever catch you again. You’re free.

 

Beauty everywhere

@Marie Kléber

Seeing beauty everywhere.

I was so good at it. It feels like I am missing many things these days. Not looking anymore at the bright side of what’s happening around. I am moving back to darkness so quickly when I was the first one to spot the best and write it down. And show people. And wish for them to dive in this place of pure bliss.

I ought to reconnect with this. To reconnect with my true self. I let too many people play with this part of me, like it was something I should keep quiet about.

Do you see beauty where you are, where you go? Do people see you as crazy or do they rejoice about the same things?