by Prasanta | Aug 31, 2018 | Haiku, Nature, Poetry, Quotes, Uncategorized
… and so the day slips the long mournings of trees last traces of gold © prasanta – August 2018 “August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time.” ― Sylvia...
by Prasanta | Aug 29, 2018 | Summer
People are ready to roll out the pumpkins. Me? Not so much. Maybe it would be true, if I still lived in the south. Because I live in the land of a seemingly endless winter, I grasp onto every last sliver of summer. (I know what’s coming each fall, each...
by Prasanta | Aug 25, 2018 | Journey, Poetry, Words, Writing
Where do uspoken words go Forgotten in some collective conscious of empty, unwritten volumes, filling dust lined shelves Perhaps filling oceans replete with missed opportunities and golden intentions Perhaps tossed on the wayside of unknown gardens, wildflowers...
by Prasanta | Aug 23, 2018 | God's promises, Journey, peace, Summer
Summer days are full of activity. Neighbors are out of their homes, walking their dogs, tending to their yards, bringing home groceries. It is late afternoon, the windows are open, the breeze is blowing and birds are chirping. A cicada out...
by Prasanta | Aug 21, 2018 | Poetry, Summer, Time, Words
Flies, bees, fireflies whirr in summer heat circulating like blood in a heart, pumping much needed oxygen to weary limbs that would die without air What stays, stands near, surrounds, envelops the air, the outline of our skin? Dig a hole, build a fire pit, watch...
by Prasanta | Aug 10, 2018 | Friday Feature, Uncategorized
Folks, I’m taking a break from a weekly article I began this summer called “Friday Feature”. I will evaluate this feature and may resume it again in the fall, but for now, my brain is saying “take a break” and the...
by Prasanta | Aug 8, 2018 | Seasons, Summer, Wordless Wednesday
#Wordless Wednesday
