Sunday, September 15, 2013

Treasure




Fingers reach
to collect
coral, shells,
stones and bones
littered across
memory’s beach.

Sands collect,
water disburses,
air feeds fire.
We stir the cauldron,
and reflect.

Bury your treasure deep -
golden moments,
silvery seconds -
no matter the lock,
they will not keep.



This is for both IGRT and The Mag.  The first image, via Grace, is by the very talented artist Kathryn Dyche Dechairo and the map is provided by the also very talented Tess Kincaid.  Clink on the links and check out both of these writing sites. 


32 comments:

  1. They do slip away. Hold them while you can...

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  2. Unexpected ending, the loss of those precious memories no matter how much we hold on to them ~ Bury them deeply & lovingly ~

    Thanks for linking up to Sunday's Challenge & wishing you happy week ahead ~

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  3. Love the beach reference as its something I greatly miss. Memories are so precious, I hold on to them tight but some day soon I will have to bury them deep.

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    Replies
    1. Thank you Kathryn. Your art work is beautiful and inspriring too.

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  4. "Bury your treasure deep -
    golden moments,
    silvery seconds -
    no matter the lock,
    they will not keep."

    Washed away by the waters of age and the sands of time. An inspired piece well penned, Mary. I really like your image choice at the top, too.

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  5. Gorgeous rendition of such a truth.

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  6. Much truth indeed, treasure when one can at their feed

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  7. I liked your first and last stanzas here, it reminds me of tourists who take shells from the beach and bring them back home.....while the artifact remains with them, the memories and such do fade and all they are left with is a box of shells that no longer smell of salt and sea. Thanks for posting this Mary!

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  8. I love the beach reference. Memories are our treasures-may we keep them safe and hope they do not fade!
    I loved yours
    :D

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  9. silvery slippery, but here well saved :-)



    ALOHA from Honolulu
    Comfort Spiral
    =^..^= <3

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  10. no matter the lock,
    they will not keep.

    That's true. They can be slippery. It can just slip away. Memories ought to be translated into tangibles - writing and storing. Nicely Mary!

    Hank

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  11. This is why I write- to remember. Thanks.

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  12. Looks like The Dutchman has a Captain, and will henceforth be inown as "The Flying Dutchwoman " !

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  13. There is a compulsion to collect up things, objects, to link us to our happy pasts, which you have captured so effectively here. I would like to mention how much I liked your use of the word 'disburse'.

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  14. Fragility and transience. La Tonya's response resonated.

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  15. "We stir the cauldron,
    and reflect."

    These two and the last two are my favorites.

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  16. The physical we try and hold on to often escapes, but it is through written words I connect to memories and they are never lost...beautiful piece!!

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  17. they will now keep.. i like how the poem flows and the end surprised me. i like it.

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  18. This makes me want to search for sea glass...

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  19. It's important to know what's really important.

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  20. They will not keep
    .......

    except in our memories.

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  21. Thank you all for reading and commenting. I am not responding to each comment here, but I have paid you all a visit, or will soon. Cheers!

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  22. Oh this so makes me feel how those locks we stamp on treasures, should be wiped away, forever more. Lovely, piece, that makes one feel in eachof our own buried moments of life.

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  23. You really reveal the truth, don't you? Treasure never gets buried..not yours, anyway!

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  24. Oh, my, so true and so beautifully put...

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  25. Writing is the way to unearth and memorialize all the treasures in our hidden chests...very nice metaphor. Fine work.

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  26. The last stanza is quite the turn-around. Memories are so dear, but yes, many do slip away. Oh, my little guy right now is singing "The wheels on the bus go 'round and 'round" his voice still so hight pitched, so happy. (Oh, to hear a grown up voice so happy...) and I'm thinking... I can't remember my other children's tiny voices. ...Oh, poor little guy is in line for lots of excessive hugging tonight :)

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