For The Sunday Muse Prompt #110, \\\* The heart ponders what lies beyond the realm of sight, what hides in the place where dreams come from, where the beauty of a still night twinkles in the soft light. From afar it tugs at the strings of the curious heart, in its distance, a promise of salvation from the fires below.
For The Sunday Muse Prompt #109, Image “Snow White & Rose Red” by Kerry Darlington \\\* The kind hearts of the shy and the cheerful make space for the stranger, a traveller quivering in the winter wind, lost, for a moment. What lies hidden in the dream is that sometimes a good deed travels the world for a season and then returns twice revived, the shy and the cheerful ones saved in return by the stranger who once wandered by.
For The Sunday Muse prompt #108: \\\* Bound up in its faux pillars and its dangling chandeliers are the memories of stolen things, the tears shed here by the lost ones reverberating in our ears. Time disappears here, subsumed by the delight of truly feeling and of seeing, the art of each act a tribute to the ones who’ve come before.
For The Sunday Muse Prompt #95. \\\* It thunders, and then it wafts, its wispy tendrils slowly rising like the white smoke of incense from a censer, held aloft by a priest intoning a muttered prayer. Behind, a bridge to the past hides, disappearing, as it were, into the haze of memory; ahead, the future - not yet glimpsed but in the moment frozen - and enjoyed.
For The Sunday Muse Prompt 93: \\\* Here, prone beneath the weight of things unseen, the vision has begun to fade, the dream once resplendent in its colour, now faint and grey, Between the leaving and the grieving a messenger appears, a key in its wings, a gift of redemption and rebirth.
For The Sunday Muse Prompt #92 and Matthew 11:28-30. \\\* Beyond the drying and the dying salvation calls; the distant shimmer of light cast by the morning sun a whisper to the weary; Come, draw nigh all ye who are heavy laden, who bear the burden of a common life around their neck. Hope and Haven is the promise, if we dare go through the door into the way.
For The Sunday Muse Prompt #90 . \\\* The brilliance of her luminescent eyes lights the darkness all around, twin pricks of desire shining bright, like stars, stark against the tapestry of a night sky. Fire and ice, both together and apart lie here, the wild and the quiet as one.
For The Sunday Muse Prompt #84. Image Source. \\\* Behind the grime, and the ravages of time the remains of living now lie, each layer of dirt a sigh, a dirge for the mystery of abandonment, for how easy it is for things once woven into the fabric of the present to slip beneath the shroud of the memories we lose. Maybe this is what leaving is, things returning to the way they always were.
For The Sunday Muse Prompt #83 . Image “After The Rain” by Cyril Rolando \\\* I tremble at the echo of the booming thunder, the resounding of its clap like the roar of a lion stirred, a brilliance incandescent in its majesty as it splits the night sky like a warm knife shears butter. I have shivered in the embrace of a light rain its fluid fingers, by persistence finding their way through my garments till they meet my bare skin. ...
For The Sunday Muse Prompt #82. \\\* Though quiet in their noon day repose, strength hides within their supple limbs, the power of the one - unfettered in its reach - melded to the quiet guile of the other; together - a Whole stronger than its parts - freely, wildly going.