Spinning. As a child,
I enjoyed becoming dizzy,
falling to the ground,
grass tickling my neck,
eyes skyward -
imagined a time the waters
reflected heaven alone,
earth spinning shades
of just blues and whites,
a drop of green, suspended.
in some small way,
am part of God's artistic finger
and so are you.
Margaret Bednar, April 22, 2014
This is for "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Whozits & Wahtzits Galare" with Lolamouse. She recently traveled to Portland, OR, and found herself in a store with lots of curious things. I chose the above photo and let my mind wander back a few years. I don't like spinning any more, stay away from any rides that involve it (and heights) … I'm really no fun at a theme park. I was watching my girls spin the other day and I guess it helped trigger this poem.
This is also linked with Flash Fiction 55 - this week over at Mama Zen's. In a short while it will have a permanent home at the Imaginary Garden of Real Toads -
For the month of April, I am participating in NaPoWriMo2014 or National Poetry Writing Month. The website is HERE.
In celebration of this year's challenge, I will be giving away a free book of my poetry. If you are interested in participating in this drawing, please click the red logo at the top of my side bar and leave your name and a means to reach (blog, email, etc) you in the comment section.
PLEASE INDICATE YOU WANT TO PARTICIPATE IN THE DRAWING OR I WILL ASSUME YOU ARE JUST COMMENTING. THANKS.