Sunday Best: swells

Dear reader,

Thank you for such an excellent February here on FVR. The theme was waves yet we read poems about goodbye, the beach, battles and checkpoint stops. If you didn’t catch it, the March submissions window opened on Monday and the theme is Bridges. Submit using the guidelines please. There are 10 spaces remaining!

To catch up on the final posts of the month:

Tuesday – Rachael Ikins

Wednesday – Richard LeDue

Thursday – John W. Leys

Friday – Mark Tulin

Saturday – Barbara Leonhard


This week’s prompt was ‘swells’ and here are two stunning responses taken from WordPress and Instagram:

threesome – mb

Precious Things – seasoundsc

They are lodged in my throat, wanting to spill 

from my mouth, as I feel them, grate and crack

my teeth

Gravity… this feeling in the pit of my stomach

Have I, really, been swallowing them?

How long had it been?

How long had you been gifting them?

Giving each to me individually

Daily, a new precious gem

Recovered by you… from barren river beds,

From the depths of dank, dark caves ~

Bleak, brumal, and black

With patient precision, mining manually,

meticulously

Carefully removing remnants of rock, mineral

deposits

Laboriously layering, stone layers so thin, they

allow luminous light to shine through ( but only

where light naturally looms )

Radiant rays, fractalled into myriad colors

Brilliantly splayed, revealing resplendent hues

In that way only the Sun can do …

When the Sun is there for you…

But, forme, you say,

You’ll gladly forgo the forsaken river, bone dry

and parched beneath the peak of day,

Putrid and dehydrated 

Instead you tread toward the tar-pitch

recesses of lachrymose caverns and caves-

where from long ago

Water did flow, too

Then, hours after entreating on such endeavours

You discover, uncover, beneath the dirt and clay

That which you set out seeking that day

One by one, found, as if each had expected

excavation 

Gems unearthed gingerly, tenderly, using your hands

As you would with a lover… languishing 

caresses,

Fleet fingers gently but skillfully removing dirt,

Bathing this newfound treasure with water ~

Nit from a well, but from the metal flask you carry

Applying all appropriate ointments, tinctures 

Treatments, to ensure proper preparation

Perfect presentation, the gem gleaming and 

glowing

Shining and shimmering beneath the miner

lamp’s pale light, light that hardly pierces the

darkness

Low light casting shadows upon the cave walls

Jagged rock walls, walls of clay, crumbling

rock, comprised of multitudinous mineral

compositions

Precarious precipicios areas,

adorned by thin shelves

Shelves shaped and shorn by the water that

once 

Flowed fierce and swift throughout the empty space

Leaving in its stead seasalt weathered and

worn slivered indentations in formally

formidable formations.

Those shelves and ledges,

which in reality were neither- rather, mere geological

recumbents of two intersecting universal 

certainties… perpetually progressing time, and

inevitable indolent oceans, powered by the moon’s

tidal sway

The so-called shelves and ledges

Examples of Mother Nature’s creations

Smoothed and thinned through generations

Via omnipresent water’s weight and force –

Forging, unforgiving, filling the cave in swells,

Barraging waves from a now distant sea

Still, shards of shells occasionally found occupying 

The ground inside and out, along the wide path

winding downward from riverbed to cave floor

These rare remnants the last remaining overt

indication 

Of the ocean’s ancient authority

Across this assuaging land

Land that gives in…

But not Man…greedy, assured of strong, nimble

hands

Continue their mining for gems

Until, as was inevitable, the caves gave way, crashing

inward and downward upon each of them

And when night came and you didn’t return

It was if I’d known this was how it would end

At last, I could stop carrying the weight of your rocks

I’d sewn them in every hem, collar, pocket

I tore seams, I removed layers and even socks

At last, untethered by the shimmering pile of

multicolored stones

Finally, the feeling in my throat, my mouth, was gone

No heaviness in my stomach, or teeth grated by

stone

It took some time, but eventually it came to pass…

I discovered your gems were just colored glass

You, so hungry for spoils… My heart breaks just a little

Because I’ll never be able to tell you- that sea glass,

to me, never would’ve felt as if I had to settle.

Don’t you see? Because you gave it to me… and that

made it more precious than even gold metal…


Here’s to March! 🥂

Happy writing,

Kristiana

3 thoughts on “Sunday Best: swells

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