Is it our light?
The light from our Sun?
So much is frozen,
will it ever thaw?
And then, will we have
to build an Arch?
Ice
Cet autre moi… #fivewords
tremble – hit – desire – alter – depth
The fragile leaf trembles in the cold winds,
its desire for warmth altered
to fear in the depth of winter,
soon the cruel ice will hit
its feeble skin…
Image source: https://pxhere.com/en/photo/1198169
Turning #writephoto
Yesterday… We walked in this valley, under the burning sun, hand in hand, believing in the eternal summer. Yesterday, perhaps, more than you, my love, I longed for Autumn, and the fall of leaves. Did I believe Time had stopped? Did I believe Earth was flat, after all?
Or was I inebriated, drunk in our love?
But now, Winter has come, silent, ineluctable: the hills are white with snow, our shoes leave no trace on the frozen ground. Nature has taken back what is hers, the air is cold, yesterday’s azure sky is now deep grey.
The light is out.
Juicy #FridayPrompt
As the ice melts, as the clouds fly slowly over the lakes, the city holds its breath, wondering if this is the end of Winter. It may not be, but in the woods, we saw a flight of cranes going East. Do they know? The air is still cold, a light rain falls, the sounds of passing traffic feel subdued, as if this were a time of less certainty.
Yesterday, today, soon we will know, perhaps the rain will continue to fall, and we will have to wait for the light, a little longer…
Photo: © 2017 Honoré Dupuis
#FiveSentenceFiction: Changes
There was silence, a vast landscape of grey stones, and a black sky: this forgotten corner of the universe would never attract attention.
Yet, hidden, there was moisture, perhaps a forgotten discarded frozen relic of a passing meteorite.
Then there was the star, a young star, still full to burst of hydrogen: a promising start…
Inside the rock, where the small bubble of ice kept hiding, there were other, not quite inert things, the bits that could lead to changes:
With some luck, a little transformation would follow, and life would rise, after eons of time.
Daily Prompt: Turn, Turn, Turn
As the snows melt on the high peaks, the streams flow, white and icy, and we will walk again my love, through the meadows lit of water drops like crystal, where our bare feet do not feel the chill…
For we do not forget, and with early summer, our story begins again…
