Here are the first features of the year. It is always a joy to do the features for Touched by Fire – there is so much interesting art and writing that the difficulty is deciding what not to include.
I am starting this journey off with a little house, an unusual house in a setting that seems to to draw you in.
And since the house looked like something from a fairytale it naturally lead me to this fantastic poem…
No Fairytale Ending by © kat86
What happens when you spend your whole life
Thinking you’re the ugly duckling who turns into a swan
Then you realise there is no fairy tale ending
and the hope you had is gone.
What happens when prince charming finds your slipper
But your foot is just too big
The frog you kissed goes missing
and your pumpkin turns out wrong.
Just because you dont love your reflection
Doesn’t mean the clouds will always rule
Look beyond the magic carpet, the jokers not always a fool
Don’t play the damsel, the world has enough distress
Heroes save your heart, you’ll have to do the rest.
In the neverending story of this thing that we call life
Your time is just beginning, don’t end it with a knife.
Just put on your overalls, wipe off the cinder ash
Finish your chores, steal from the chocolate stash.
Get your dress ready, dance with your bestfriend
Be home by midnight
A curfew is not the end.
There’s something special about this image. You’re not sure if she’s fleeing or running towards something. I like a bit of mystery.
Assuming that she was running towards something, I wondered if it might be the new year and all the things that might be on their way.
hello new day by © hollyann
of the new three six five
lucky to be alive
and hovering on this new
the light looks clean
and showing me out
of the tunnel
i am moving towards
the next horizon
and when things
feel an uncomfortable
i twist and turn
until the landscape
for the new seeds
and the new branches
we are on this journey
your hand in mine
after all this time
we take the road
less travelled by
but leading to
the open sea
with sails unfurled
and winds caught up
we move across the
white capped waves
with telescope to eye
looking for first sight
But life’s not always gentle and there might be some dark days ahead…
BUT there is always hope…
Tonight I cast my sins, fears, tumultuous thoughts
upon the vast inky waters of this bottomless ocean
sending them to drift along the turbulent raging tides
to wash up upon your pristine sundrenched shore
buried on a coastal beach of bleached salty sand
to shrivel under the sweltering gaze of unrelenting
perhaps you will hear the primal wails in sheer agony
perhaps you will pick and weigh them in your palm
perhaps you will rescue, cleanse, hold them close
perhaps you will breathe new life in purification
perhaps, you may even learn to live with them
perhaps you could learn to love this part of
maybe the new year will bring release
maybe it will come in time to let go
maybe I will finally be set free to
I loved this image for the focus on what’s important and the hope it makes me feel.
And the next poem seems to encapsulate all that I felt when I looked at the picture.
It was dark when the light came
like a memory
like a firefly
like a nerve—
like the last of the fallen angels;
like the most beautiful thought
tossed off a bridge
in the quiet
and absolute still
of stars making waves below.
I find myself in this madness,
shaded and sharp
as a moment of glory;
like the palm
of the moon;
two steps behind
I can’t say I was surprised
when the whistle blew
my hair back
like wheat in a gale—
or when the gods
poured down like
slow golden rain
from the crown
to the sea
to the wind;
to life growing seeds for angels
gifts of the being alone;
or when dawn
like infinite hands
with the currency
of a perfectly fluted memory
in the dark
This next image impressed me with its composition as well as the feelings it evoked.
The next fabulous poem makes the perfect companion with its thoughtful whimsy.
When midnight points to the moon
With the voice of wolfs
And when all winds motion bloom
The night … she replies
In the realm of fragrant foliage
Smooth are the sounds of shadows
Flights of silver owls feeding
In fashion of rose-mooned pearls
And the scent of carrion
A little true twisted crescent
The humour of this quintessence
Shift in daydreams of desire … and
The night … she replies
That gather the spirits of rain … and
Pain of lightning struck twice
Strange and dying winds
Runs in rivers of cold gray sleep
However I wanted to end these first features of the year on a hopeful note and this image seemed to show me all the little tendrils of hope for the year just started.
May we indeed “step gracefully” through the coming year.
Stained with life’s destiny
but gently framed
the doors of time
always slightly ajar
are closing fast
cautiously peering outwards
a gentle nudge of passage
the door creaks softly
hinges hung with peril…..
on threadbare scent of cedar
hold tight to my forever key
each knot of wood…
forged in place
my right of passage
peering along time aging corridors
onwards to the rapid hands of time
slow the hands on the clock
please set them free
I want to stay in the real life
so many more memories
I want to take with me
realisations of harshness
too young to surrender,
more things to remember
wishes sliding through key holes
close not my solid cedar door
and wipe your feet
as we step gracefully
I hope your enjoy the features and have a very happy New Year.