Mi Vida Loca · nonfiction · poetry · postaday · Stories of my life · writing

Light Flashes ~~~ A Poem

 

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Light Flashes

 

Light flashes in the dark, tiny sprites of hope

My dark thoughts pause, gloom is getting brighter

Fading beneath the small glimmers of sunshine

Reaching hands of friendship taking hold of me

Light flashes in the dark, lightening bugs of dreams

Wisps of smoky dullness being blown away with warmth

Off in the distance I see the darkness slide against the sides

Heart is easier, mind clearer, sleep is a friend of mine

Light flashes in the dark, air bright again after the rain

Fear no longer lives here, terror has lost it’s reign

A few kind words were needed, given, taken and returned

Virtual is still reality, in this world of mine

Light flashes in the dark, sparks flying bigger each day

Pain lessens, memories made of caring friends, smiles from the heart

Shadows grow smaller, not completely gone,

Light flashes in the dark, stepping stones to the sun

Blog challenge · Blogging · Photo Challenges · postaday · Uncategorized

Weekly Photo Challenge: Object

In this week’s photo challenge, we are  to use one tangible object as both our inspiration and subject. This one was a challenge for me, that’s for sure! I’m not the best photo taker and I wasn’t sure what I should do with this. But I promised myself I would do things on my blog this year that I usually don’t do and these photo challenges are a part of that.

These photos are of a beautiful crystal cross that a very good friend of mine gave me years ago. I’m not a religious person, but I’m very spiritual. She gave me this cross as a gift because she said the crystals would protect me. I believe they have through the years. The pictures aren’t the best as I just have a cheap digital camera. The cross really is beautiful and I’m afraid I didn’t do it justice.

I put the cross on different backgrounds with different colors to try to capture some of its beauty. As I said, I’m not a picture taker.

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nonfiction · Uncategorized · writing

Imagination Has No Age

When I was young I had all sorts of friends. Big friends, little friends, furry friends, ones with wings and feathers, tails and claws. They were all so different, yet they all loved me as I loved them.  Made of wisps of winds, dewdrops and rainbows. They were the best friends a young girl could have.

adolescence
adolescence (Photo credit: imago)

A little older I had other friends. Dragons, witches,  warlocks, elves. Also wolves, tigers, unicorns and fairies. They were mythical friends from lands that were magical and wonderous. They lived in trees and flowers, under bushes of green. In great caves filled with crystals  and light. They talked and laughed and told me stories of great delight.

Then my teen years came and with them I  had other friends. Ones that made me think and ponder. They filled me with hopes and dreams of lands far away. Made  me want to learn new languages and dream  bigger dreams. They asked me questions which I had to deeply think of answers to. They wanted me to seek more and more of things I did not know.

Then came later friends. Friends who were mysterious and full of secrets. Friends who made me question myself, yet made me stronger. Friends who gave me life riddles to find answers to.  Friends who helped shape me into a person who always finds the answers to questions  she didn’t even know existed. They were friends that kept me whole and sane when my world was insane and full of chaos.

Now, all my friends have converged into a ring of familiarity.  One of love and acceptance. They have all played a part in shaping  how I think and what I do. They all have shown me that my mind is made of great things. They have taught me that my imagination is my greatest friend of all. Even though all my friends were born out of  that imagination does not make them less. It makes them more.

When I put words in my writings. When I have ideas and create  worlds that are new and different, I give silent thanks to ALL my friends. My imaginary friends. The ones that are with me still,  because Imagination has no age.