Listen for the blue note in the sparrow’s call: “Remember this!”
Notice where it flies when leaves begin to fall. Remember this.
Yesterday I watched the morning awaken,
and in the shapes of clouds I could read the scrawl: Remember This.
Take hands and step forward with love in your heart
and do not worry about what might befall. Remember this.
You remembered my question when you returned.
I had painted it, bright red, on the wall: Remember this.
When one who is known as the Weaver is gone,
What remains are these words in the sand–that is all: Remember this.
Thursday’s Prompt
Tomorrow’s poem will be a poem for children. Join me?
Gratitude List:
1. Clear questions, with thoughtful and earnest answers.
2. Great blue heron
3. Finding ways to warm up
4. Discovering the new JK Rowling book in the library
5. Vision. Sight. Eyes.
May we walk in beauty.
Morning frost on the inside of the window.
Mockingbird Chronicles 
Beautiful ghazal! Here’s mine:
The Wrist of Time
Snow’s on its way down, lights flicker, and this time
we reach the candles and the flashlights just in time.
It’s getting dark but our home is kissed with light.
There’s water. Firewood. We do not miss the time
we were not ready. Ice falls first, slips us stumbling
in our shoes. Sticks to the lines. We list the times
we’ve done this before, a deck of shifting cards, a book.
Roads all but impassable, we wait. I lift the time
onto my shoulders, carry it back and risk the weight
of memory. My arms too tired to grasp the wrist of time.
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As always, I am in love with your words. I especially like the way you take a form and make it your own. This flows and dances, and uses he magic of the repetition so nicely.
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