Writing Outside the Lines – Prompt 2.45

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I found the following quote several weeks ago and in light of current events along the Texas coast with Hurricane Harvey it is perfect for today …

“… where storms sleep lightly … ” ~John O’Donohue

You have until next Sunday the 3rd of September … or any time before or after to give me your impression of this quote …

All prompts are active and feel free to go back to earlier ones if you have not been one of my Writing Rebels … the only challenge here is between you and what you have to write … the rules are few and open to everyone!

*For those new to this challenge, please read the particulars under the third tab that says “read first” https://annieswritingchallenge.wordpress.com/writing-outside-the-lines/ then return to the prompt page to post your response or your web site link in the comments section.

Copyright © 2017 Annie
Always…I wish you peace, joy and happiness, but most of all I wish you Love.
As Ever, Annie

4 thoughts on “Writing Outside the Lines – Prompt 2.45”

  1. Pingback: Seeking Shelter from the Storm | A Thing for Words

  2. Seeking Shelter From the Storm

    “… where storms sleep lightly … ” ~John O’Donohue

    I found the bedclothes
    knotted around my legs,
    as once again I awaken.
    This for the fourth time,
    that I can remember at least.
    When you sleep only four
    or five hours a night
    your mind can forget what’s real
    and what’s imagined.

    Notice I didn’t say dreamed,
    for dreams don’t come often
    in the stormy state that passes
    for sleep in my hazy experience.
    I’ve awoken with a gasp,
    as if I’d been held underwater
    to the limits of my breath.
    I’ve leapt from my bed
    in a flight or fight frenzy
    no nightmare provoked.

    I’ve dropped into slumber
    at my desk, in mid-conversation
    and at the wheel so many times
    it brings me to tears as easily
    as anger. But I show you neither.
    I just walk through each day
    in a waking dream, where reality’s
    gummy stuff clinging to my eyes.

    I see things in a twilight at noon,
    as if through the torrential curtain
    that falls on both the living and dead.
    Through green eyes I see your hours
    of nocturnal shelter from this storm.
    And I’ve looked at the peaceful rest
    of the grave and think,
    “How wonderful!”

    Not sure if I’ll post this one. But it feels good to be back “outside the lines,” Annie

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