zen is
listening to the song
of the crows,
hearing my intuition;
flowing like a creek instead
of trying to force my way
through a rock—

zen is taking a deep
breath of the forest,
walking through the wildflowers,
getting lost as i count the stars;

zen is choosing myself
instead of the chatter
of the world—

zen is simply being,
drinking in life;
conscious of every action
and reaction,
but enjoying my journey
instead of comparing it to that
of others.
–linda m. crate

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She is absolutely killing the challenge! How are you doing with the prompts?

breaking free of socks
chickens wearing socks
quickly lose them,
as they run to be rid of
constraint;

just as i quickly
lost you when you tried
restraining me

found instead a white
butterfly and a rainbow—

a promise of something
better than the
dystopia of yours that you
meant for me to inherit,

you thought you could wretch
into me all your darkness
and you’d shatter my light;

but i rose from the darkness
with every flaming feather—

so in the end you could say
that your socks were barely
any obstacle to my freedom,
they were every bit as weak
as that love you claimed for me.
–linda m. crate

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She is absolutely killing the challenge! How are you doing with the prompts?