When Darkness Come Again . . .

Spread your whispering story.

Those glittering shards that sing
of instinct and fine urges.

Scatter some of your charm
upon this ashen soul.

Scald me with your joy.

Let me steal from you
the knack of carrying light.

So that when the darkness comes again,
to pour its inky stains and crush my violet hope.

. . . I can shout out to my sisters.

With their hair streaming
and wild voices splitting the air.

They will coming running.

Whooping and hollering
and dancing in circles.

. . . Until all of the shadows are gone.

Written for Wordle 40 at The Sunday Whirl.

Image and words - Susannah Bec

A Greater Depth

kneeling, praying, feeling
the rich black earth
alive beneath me

still, quiet, aware,
as I contemplate
the illusion

that broad panorama
streaked and dotted
with people and cars

it flows like a film reel,
bringing to life the
big city spectacle

while I, vain and proud
eschew the crisp notes,
sure in my resolution

that beneath the surface
there's a greater depth
that is full of meaning

and it is only dormant
to those, with no desire
to walk through walls


Written for The Sunday Whirl using all of the words.

Undeserved

Your trust in me
was brutal
unflinching
undeserved

and I
with sullen pout
and that fire
within me

never let on
just how much
it meant


(for my father)

Written for Three Word Wednesday
using the prompt words - trust, brutal and sullen

Painting by Susannah Bec