Picture by and copywrite Rosa Frei.
Sucking at the grains,
the eyes, weather-beaten portals
portray, in absolution,
the sifting sands in hourglass
like B-52 roar, the revelation
of dry ocean repetition,
the ships always setting sail never
finding anything but mirage—
blistered empty wounds
singing long after they have sung,
these eyes, these hands left
to cover blood and beauty.
* My submission to this week’s edition of the One Shoot Sunday Photo Prompt, with this moving bit of portraiture care of Rosa Frei. Check out my interview with her, and join in the poetry fun!
Do you know the story of the Easter Bells in Europe? Throughout the year, Europe is set to the ringing of the bells, save the Christian Good Friday and Holy Saturday. It is a token of mourning. Yet on Easter day they ring out once more, as a celebration of their savior’s resurrection. On this day, millions of people are set to celebration across the world.
Accordingly, this first quote of the week is in honor of the Easter weekend.
I think of the garden after the rain;
And hope to my heart comes singing,
“At morn the cherry-blooms will be white,
And Easter bells be ringing!”
~Edna Dean Procter, Easter Bells