There are days when the coffee fills my cup and the day begins with that lovely taste of warmth.
But what about the days when the coffee spills, no matter how carefully I hold the cup or the coffee pot.
Some days feel like those spills, at first an annoyance, a mess to be cleaned. But there is some beauty in the mark they leave on the counter. A splash on paper would be seen as art. Perhaps this is a better way to think of those spills, art, evidence, that life is being lived and sometimes, it is messy.
Welcome July – and a new set of writing prompts!
Cut the lemons.
Boil the water.
Add sugar and lemon slices to the pan ( a few slices of ginger are good too).
Cook over low heat.
Enjoy the fresh scent of lemons as the liquid becomes a sweet syrup.
Pour a bit of syrup over ice.
This is what lemonade used to taste like.
June is coming to an end – find the prompt list here and stay tuned for a July list next week
Was it the slight bend in the path?
Or the leaves,
adding a touch of gold to the rain, soaked ground?
She didn’t really think about.
She just believed it would be possible to breath deeply,
to let go of the tension and inhale the calm.
Writing with prompts – the June list
When she suggested the glass exhibit, I paused for a short moment. She didn’t seem to notice.
“If that is what you want to do, let’s go.”
We hadn’t been in the same room for more than 5 years but it felt like 5 minutes. We talked and laughed and consoled and encouraged. We made our way through the exhibit and I found myself drawn to the colors, so bright against the dark displays.
But the indoor displays paled in comparison to the garden exhibit. The large, orange flowers pulled me forward, enchanted by their size and simplicity.
I stood beneath and caught sight of the Space Needle towering above and it was perfect.
writing with prompts – the June edition
We used to talk and talk and talk.
There was so much laughter.
Over a cup of coffee words would tumble out and time would pass too quickly.
She was my biggest supporter.
The words are fewer now.
Long moments of silence.
Questions asked again and again as she tries to hold on, to make sense.
I must learn to know joy in this new space.
As I leave I hear her say, “She really knows what she is doing.”
And I take joy in this love she can’t quite recall.
Rejoining- writing with prompts
You know that thing we do? Promising to stay in touch? Promising that we won’t let so much time go by before we connect again? Promising to dust off our running shoes or the bike or the pen?
What is that? The words haven’t finished tumbling out before I know they won’t hold true.