Lost Forgotten Tale
unearthed with a golden shovel
Like passersby gazing distantly past our every thought, masked by the dramas of the day, quarantined to self for all eternity, giving the usual lighthearted greeting not felt by even the most sensitive of beings, left flat, unchecked blowout waiting for tire’s spin, remaining in a melted tumultuous blob of thickened, a blackened sea of despair, blanked stare into the abyss before a specific point in time.
Little bunny sits frozen to prairie grazing on what-ifs and whatnots, scared and trembling by the presence and powerful energetic being waiting to pounce at spontaneous moments. Whether you smoke the bitterness with dragon-like breath aftermath or you eat a magical muffin with promises of fairy-tale-like endings, life will move through the land.
Stagnant or forward-moving anecdote lost in the rubble piles outback, heroes journey begins treasure-trove untold and written for the thousandth time. The article in question, self-discovering awaiting the artist’s canvas-like expressionism or told by another, petroglyphs painting us on cave walls.
Sister owl hooting and hollering at once told fables of old, second-guessed misstep and fatal blow to the gazelle, out of the blue thickened clouds transcending downward into the ancient fabric of intertwining fading memories. Passing the stories for generations to come, handing down mythical proportions or as real as they come, forever telling tall tales of us.
Rest now, laying weary head upon the stones, wisdom of the ages soaking in illuminating sun’s rays of hope, and wishful thinking is all we have to hold. Gazing now into the past, present, and future quass-like measurements left for interpretations untold, left for self-grasping straws repose in the safety of the campfire glow.
The time is now, spoken awareness born in this very day, taking up arms against self-inflicting destructive myriad conclusions. Happy ending not reserved for masseuse laying hands, untold stories are beholding new meaning, yet jackpots, showering gifts, and all of this.
Doubting Thomas knocking at death’s door, drinking down mouthful swallowed reality, outcomes far out-weighing painful bliss of yesteryear. Step forward, Stepping into the Canvas of Life, filled with vigor no longer piss and vinegar, end to the means not yet visualizing something more painful as it may all of this will have been worth it.
~Ani Po
Thank you J.D. Harms for this challenge. Not for the mere putting together of but for the choosing of whom among the great, Jeff Langley, Jessica Lee McMillan, Joanna Vang, Paroma Sen, Aspen Blue, Jonah Lightwhale, Amy Jasek, Josie Elbiry, ., Dean K Miller to name a few shall I choose. So many to thank for their inspiring daily, weekly words, but it is in the dreams of seeing another sharing inspirations. For this piece I chose, in the form of a golden shovel
in time
life will move through the land,
painting us on cave walls
telling tall tales of us
in the safety of the campfire glow
and all of this
all of this will have been worth it.
