Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. BEE-ING By Su Shafer I have become a stone. A gemstone. Labradorite Or Moonstone maybe. No – an Orca Agate From the Earth, with an affinity with water. I am a stationary object. My unruly legs have taught me The power of stillness, How motionlessness invites presence In each moment. Today I watched a bee visit All the flowers in my patio planter. Her tender attention to each one The pollen pantaloons on her legs The song of her wings, Humming as she went from floret to floret Trailing in the air behind her as she flew off. Her busy work reminds me There are no small lives. I think of her and her sisters Bustling about in the hive, Content in their purposefulness. Unlike my quiet house There is no stillness in a…
Tag: Su Shafer
Stan and the Moon Shadow
Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Stan and the Moon Shadow By Su Shafer It was THE SOLAR ECLIPSE DAY! When he got out of bed, the moon was moving in the sky. As it always was, of course, but with more excitement that day than usual. It was common place for the moon to be seen in the daytime, but today It would meet the sun face to face and wear its fiery crown, as The Earth looked on, far below. It was a big day for the moon, but for Stanley, not so much. Just another passing shadow added to a life Where everything was painted with a leaden umbra. When he opened his eyes, his room overflowed with a dull gloom More than darkness, as if the blackness in his dreams spilled Out of his…
Night Knight
Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Night Knight By Su Shafer We spend almost every night together. I’m not away from home often But when I am, I ache And I don’t sleep well. I am uncomfortable with The hardness of strangers The impersonal coarseness Or aloof purist sterility. There is never the welcoming I get at home. The soft embrace, The understanding. At home there is no judgment Or pressure that I am not doing enough, No criticism that I am not enough My bed cradles me like a mother. I am held in a cocoon of love I never want to leave. I close my eyes and my bed hums A silent lullaby Sleep dear one Tired caterpillar Your work will wait Dream of wings And drinking flowers Wake up the butterfly That you…
Herald
Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Herald By Su Shafer After all these years She’s letting go No more worrying If she’s too fat Or too old Or what he’s thinking Or feeling Or if he’s alive or dead No more waiting For the rock to roll The hope when it moved a little But found a new dead end to be still So she’s letting go Dropping the over-packed luggage She carried with both hands For so long Her arms feel like wings As she walks in the sun Her steps so light, she might take flight On her way to the mailbox She sees a golden jewel beetle Resting on the sidewalk A living gem that stuns her breathless Spreading amber wings, it lifts effortlessly Into the air and buzzes regally away Sometimes messengers are more beautiful Than you can…
Burgeoning
Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Burgeoning By Su Shafer How many petals are in a peony? There’s no way to tell from the bud – a closed hand holding more than you can imagine. They unfold slowly, the way a smile spreads before a secret is told. Each petal a curled finger uncurling an alluring promise of beauty to come a whisper – just wait, just wait… And then suddenly It blooms Su Shafer is a creative crafter, fabricating bits of writing in poetry and short stories, and generating characters that appear in paintings and sit on various bookshelves and coffee tables.
The Sound of Wind
By Su Shafer The sound of wind is cold – gray waves, frigid and broken, rushing up a Northern shore. It’s a hollow sound, like a flute without music. An echo undying. Emptiness longing to be filled. A mournful wail unanswered. The despairing lamentation of invisible hands searching, sweeping ahead blindly. Dry leaves scuttle sideways like old crabs on stick legs. They rattle their empty claws at its passing, then lay still. Su Shafer is a creative writer and sometime poet who lives in the Pacific Northwest, where flannel shirts are acceptable as formal wear and strong coffee is a way of life. There, in a small Baba Yaga house perched near the entrance to The Hidden Forest, odd characters are brewing with the morning cup, and a strange new world is beginning to take shape . . .
The Inner Critic Tar Pit of Doom and Despair
By Su Shafer Beware the trap that writers often fall into: The Inner Critic Tar Pit of Doom and Despair—the black hole of fear in your head that says you have nothing new or exciting to say or that even if you are personally excited by what you’ve written, it’s not good enough for someone else to read or hear. The Tar Pit of Doom and Despair is a creative quicksand that will sink the soul right out of your writing, further feeding the fear of mediocrity. The only way to escape this pit is to get out of your head. I’ve found doing timed free writes is a great way to do this. When your time is restricted, you don’t have time to obsess over a word or a phrase and there simply isn’t enough time to polish. There is something freeing and reassuring about that. And having a time…