Glorious, Empty Saturday

mountains with crepuscular ray

Photo by Min An on

Snow is coming, and I am free for a glorious two days of doing exactly as I please.

It is glorious
And empty

Empty and

Glorious – The thing you feel when the shining sun reaches down through the clouds as though she is reaching down from heaven to embrace you. And you remember that you are made f her. And if not for her radiant, passionate fingers, you would not own fingers of your own—fingers to reach out and warm the heart of your own particular world.

Empty – What a fabulous word—like the mantra of the yogi who instructs you to breathe in deeply, to the bottom of your diaphragm. “Breath in LOVE”, she instructs, “and then breathe out EMPTY”. “Empty out everything distressing; everything troubling; everything keeping you from the here and now”


Two words that are not found in my refrigerator poetry set!

How alarming!

What dismay!

How is a girl to call
Herself a creative
A writer
A poet


On such a day as
This day?

I guess I will simply (another missing word)
Have to create my musings (and yet another)

Right here on the this page,

Gloriously, emptying myself to this day.

Yay! (Also missing. How could they?!)

© Jane Ellen Holliday Wilson – January 2019

This entry was posted in Commentary, Glorious, Mind, Poetry, Sunshine, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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