Sophia Says – 4

Sophia says, go out to play.  And the day was full of expectation.

Flamingo Mess

~ ~ ~

When I was a child, I climbed walls, just to see what was on the other side. It didn’t matter how high, your friends were always there with you. You could sit on a wall, throw a ball against a wall, use it as a wall to mark the goal posts. A wall was just a wall, made of brick coloured bricks, brick shaped bricks, bricks that smelled like bricks. Real bricks. Sometimes, you simply sat on the wall, deciding what game to play or where to go next. You told each other jokes and laughed a lot.

When I was grown I built lots of walls. Walls made of square pegs in round holes. Walls made of paper shapes. Walls made of expectations. Walls that served no useful purpose until I saw they were made for learning how to climb again.

This is my fourth post In response to the 5 day photo/story challenge from suedreamwalker. She has a wonderful blog.

Here are the rules for the “Five Photos Five Stories” challenge: “Post a photo each day for five consecutive days and attach a story to the photo. It can be fiction or non-fiction, a poem or a short paragraph and each day nominate another blogger for the challenge. My nomination today is ‘In A Dim Light.’ A wonderful and sensitive blog.

(Sporadic posting is alright if you’re unable to post each day.)

Blue Flamingo’s © 2015 TCFlynn

Letting go

Gathering

Ireland opens it’s doors and hearts to friends and family across the world. Calling all descendants, to come home, to celebrate in villages, towns and cities. A year-long celebration of Irish ancestry, restoring the spirit of it’s people. It made me think of gathering in a wider sense, of how thinly I have spread myself between family, home, creative interests and general day-to-day tasks.

I resolve to pull myself together, see what and where I can make changes. Focus, concentrate on fewer things, difficult enough under present circumstances, but those precious moments of stillness are gathering momentum, and I must gather all those mini-me’s out there, to return to the centre, undiluted.

 

pixie black and white

Spreading ever more thinly

I let go –

and all things urgent,

evanescent –

in this one moment of eternity