Moxie N' Mettle

MOXIE N' METTLE

In slivers and fragments as my sleep tiptoes, did I do right or wrong my heart needles…

Some skies are born of black holes and tempest wreck,

There glitters not a ray of light, nor a speck

When curtains turbid hold all light hostage,

Sandstorms, hailstorms, dust storms, snowstorms, windstorms assail and ravage

Spanning my wings as a raging fire

Or as a mellow glow of a fairy light in the distant darkness, quite debonaire

I'll ignite my spark from within like a star born into itself spurting lava

Or explode leaving trails of cosmic dust like a Supernova

I will be the Sun creating galaxies and many a constellation.

Or burn like a single flame of the candle to keep my hopes and dreams alive with determination!

I will be at my own pace

I will be whoever and whatever I want to be—in my own race

Collapse, crash and crumble! But I'll not lay down my arms and with my goals fumble.

I'll bounce back on my feet, draw my courage like a sword, my faith like a shield and wear my confidence like an armor.

A sunflower who lives eternally for a day or as a perennial evergreen who survives a harsh winter day

The seeds I carry within maybe for a while buried

Only to give birth to hundreds of me, unhurried

In their own time, undying, they'll wait for the right time to sprout

That's how from the ashes too Phoenixes arise, stronger than ever before, soaring everywhere and all about…

Pic Courtesy: Pixabay

Comments

CHAPTER 1: THE JADE SHAMBHALA

This post is Chapter 1 of short story series titled The Jade Shambhala. Tasseography is as old as time. The stories in the tea leaves will leave you in a spin, while the healing tea that precedes it anchors you like gripping oak roots. Every day for the next seven days, Xiu-Ying will welcome a new traveler seeking refuge from their heavy burdens, reading their futures in the settled leaves and guiding them toward peace as the seasons shift on the ridge. Welcome to The Jade Shambhala Tea House! CHAPTER 1 EARLY SPRING Ko-San Tê Bai Mudan (White Peony and Red Dates) The morning mist in the rolling hills of the 1980s Taiwanese countryside did not rise; it dissolved, burning away into thin silver threads under the persistent warmth of the early spring sun. The Yun-Shan Ridge grew f...

FINALE: THE JADE SHAMBHALA

FINALE The Gift of the North Wind The morning sun over the Yun Shan Ridge always arrived with a slow, quiet patience, filtering through the thick pine needles until the mountain mist glowed like pale green silk. Inside the Jade Shambhala Tea House, the iron kettle was just beginning to hum over the hot charcoal embers. Lin Xiu-Ying sat at the long wooden counter, her hands wrapped around a warm clay cup, listening to the stillness of the forest. Three winters ago on a night when the mountain was locked in a fierce, unyielding blizzard, the wind and the sea had their own ideas. ***** She didn't choose to board that trading merchant boat down in the southern spice ports. She was just a tiny, silver-white kitten, shivering behind a stack of cinnamon crates...

THE BIG BAD WOLF( DAY 17, LETTER T)

CHAPTER 16 THE BIG BAD WOLF The pigs snarled like proper rascals, fixing their cold steely eyes on the Wolf's cottage. How dare he refuse to part with his cottage! When the pigs demand, it's given to them---no questions asked! Porkinn limped, Baconne was soggy, Swinedell rubbed a sore bump on his head, but they were far from defeated. Swinedell snorted, a crooked grin spreading across his face. "Wolf thinks 'e's posh, don't 'e? " Baconne sniffed the air, his nostrils flaring. "We want the cottage!” He growled. Porkinn cracked his fingers, his sly glance darting about. The pigs crept towards the back door, their footsteps silent on the soft grass. They spotted the Wolf through the kitchen window, stirring a pot of steaming stew for dinner. They kicked the door in, the wood splintering jaggedly. The latch gave in....

CHAPTER 2: THE JADE SHAMBHALA

This is a part of a short story series titled The Jade Shambhala. 7 days, 7 stories, 7 different exotic tea blends from the Far East and unique tea leaves reading for each. Welcome to the tea house! CHAPTER 2 LUNAR NEW YEAR Kim-huan Tê ( Golden Lily Oolong) The early spring air hanging over Sian-Phô village was heavy, smelling faintly of spent sulfur from the Lunar New Year firecrackers and the cold, sharp scent of wet pine needles. Up on the Yun-Shan Ridge, the festive red lanterns hanging from the eaves of the low wooden cottages were damp and water-logged, their brilliant scarlet dye bleeding slowly into the persistent gray mountain mist. The holiday had just ended, and while the rest of the village was settling into the quiet hope of a new agricultural...

QUEST FOR THE BEARS (DAY 18, LETTER Q)

CHAPTER 17 QUEST FOR THE BEARS The next day, the pigs trotted off to spread mischief in the woodland, their ricky-ticky steps scuffing the damp path into a mess of overturned leaves and broken twigs. Goldwynn stayed crouched behind the wonky rain barrel until the sound of their pig-trouble thinned, then thinned again, then dissolved into the larger quiet of the trees. She didn’t move right away. The woods had a way of listening after the pigs left, as if it wasn’t sure they were truly gone. The air held its breath with her. When she finally stood, the silence felt heavier than noise. No birds called. The light came down in broken pieces, the sun playing hide-and-seek through beech and alder, dappling the forest floor with spools of pale gold. The ground under her boots was soft and cold, a black earth that smelled of truffles gone to rot and old rain. It stuck to ...

Sangeetha Kamath

Search This Blog