Continuation of the story: On Joy and Sorrow

Then a woman said, speak to us of Joy and Sorrow.

And he answered:

Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.

And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.

And how else can it be?

The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.

Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter’s oven?

And is not the lute that soothes your spirit the very wood that was hollowed with knives?

When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving joy.

When you are sorrowful, look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.

Some of you say, “Joy is greater than Sorrow,” and others say , “Nay Sorrow is greater.”

But I say unto you, they are inseparable. Together they come,and one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon  your bed.

Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.

Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.

When the treasure- keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or sorrow rise or fall.

To be continued! 🙂

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Writing 101, Day Four: A story in a single image

Image of a handful of blueberries: Download by Maja Petric

I chose the image from unsplash.com

For this exercise , use one of the images as the creative spark for today’s post. You might use it as a setting for a story or poem, write about how it makes you feel, or describe a memory conjured by it.

Hands full of blueberries,

For you I’ve brought to see.

They are luscious and pretty,

I bet you will agree.

 

You can use them to make pies,

Or for muffins or  cookies,

Or we can eat them ,

And  show our purple teeth .

 

Friends will turn away,

Neighbors too,

Young Patsy will hide her face,

And  will yell, “what have you done?”

 

“I cannot call you mom anymore,

My friends will make fun of me,”

They will say, “you are crazy,”

I will say,” it’s your imagination!”

 

Then let’s not eat it,

Just plain,

let’s make muffins,

For us to devour it.

 

Muffins I baked,

We sat together and ate,

Oh how much fun we had,

Sang loudly our good friend Kate!!

Well I tried to use the image in a make-believe poem. I am not good writing poems you can see. I will appreciate your feed back dear  participants. 🙂

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