Fiction, Flash Fiction, Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer, History, My Thoughts, Nature, Nonfiction, Religion/Morality, Travel, Writing, Writing Challenges

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: A Force of Life #flashfiction #amwriting #nature


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.

——–

Credit: Tim Livingston of TheForesterArtist

——–

It’s the lushest rainforest I’ve ever seen. If one could say Mother Nature had a life force it would be here, hidden within this vibrant foliage. For me green is the color of life and I think of the exotic creatures found here and I understand why environmentalists are vehemently protecting a forest full of wild animals and their habitats.

To imagine this brilliant life force gone would be painful. There is an ache in my heart picturing the dustlands of a destroyed forest, where nothing can regrow because of how horibly the soil has eroded, stripped of trees. Seeing this century old car buried randomly makes me curious of how the car ended up here; I imagine it’s a fabulous tale. But there’s no one here to tell that story, only me, and miles of greenery. Here in the womb of Mother Nature, one could disappear.

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Nonfiction, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Shadorma - 3/5/3/3/7/5 syllables, Writing, Writing Challenges

B&P’s Shadorma and Beyond: “In Darkness Lies” #poetry #writing #amwriting 


This is last week’s Shadorma prompt, hosted by MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie. The poem, “Travelling Through The Dark” by William E. Stafford. 

——

Credit: http://www.transformationplus.com

—–

There are things, 

Best not explained and

Thought of once, 

Forgotten. 

Some times rise up in memory

Some nights lost.

—–

Perhaps the —

Road was offending —

Nature not —

Giving her, 

Space required for her to thrive, 

Voice unheard.

—— 

But I wish, 

Someone out there could —

Hear nature’s —

Whispers cried. 

Then we wouldn’t harm her deer, 

Not anything.

——

We might have —

More respect for such creatures whom —

Know not where —

They tread is —

Surely the end, too dangerous, 

So they die. 

—-

And like that —

Deer killed by the road,

Womb full of —

Baby who —

Won’t ever be born; Nature —

Cries for loss. 

—–

If the corpse, 

Lies there on the road, 

Some idiot, 

Not paying —

Attention; he’ll hit it and —

Kill himself. 

—–

Though the deers, 

Death is so tragic, 

So is the —

Loss of a —

Human life more; though we think, 

Some don’t think. 

——

Perhaps a —

Sign some flashing lights, 

Saying, “Deer —

Crossing Please —

Be aware,” but some don’t read. 

The corpse goes —

—–

A gaping —

Grave to eternity, 

Mother and —

Fawn are gone. 

No vigil, no prayer, no thought, 

Nature mourns. 

——-

“Travelling Through the Dark” By William E. Stanford 

——

Traveling through the dark I found a deer

dead on the edge of the Wilson River road.

It is usually best to roll them into the canyon:

that road is narrow; to swerve might make more dead.

—–

.By glow of the tail-light I stumbled back of the car

and stood by the heap, a doe, a recent killing;

she had stiffened already, almost cold.

I dragged her off; she was large in the belly..

 ——-

My fingers touching her side brought me the reason—

her side was warm; her fawn lay there waiting,

alive, still, never to be born.

Beside that mountain road I hesitated.

.——-

The car aimed ahead its lowered parking lights;

under the hood purred the steady engine.

I stood in the glare of the warm exhaust turning red;

around our group I could hear the wilderness listen.

.——–

I thought hard for us all—my only swerving—,

then pushed her over the edge into the river.

——-

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.