Therapy

Image Source: Amber candle and spa stones with orchid  on bamboo
Image Source: Amber candle and spa stones with orchid on bamboo

No one can tell me

that writing

is not

therapy.

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The Gentle Rain

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I am from the earth. My skin soft like the soil. I watch as the rain slithers from the sky like perspiration from my brow. It brings with it the taste of tranquility, and the smell of clean. I let the water kiss the palms of my hands and muddy itself into the soil of my skin. Perhaps it will seek to filter my thoughts and purify my soul as it does the air. The winds are soft and polite this warm and yet cool morning; a mixture of bleak sunshine and splashes of gray. I hope to accomplish what needs to be done. Who knows, I may just give birth to flowers this day, a rose or perhaps a lily or two, with the gentle rain.

Writer’s Quote Wednesday Writing Challenge – Laughter

I am so excited about this week’s writing challenge! Today’s theme is on one of my favorite exercises. But first, I want to say welcome everyone to another Writer’s Quote Wednesday Writing Challenge as hosted by Ronovan of Ronovan Writes and Colleen of Silver Threading.

fileNow, about laughing. I have chosen multiple quotes for this week. Here are some of the best laughing quotes I found:

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i-laugh-even-harder-when-i-try-to-explain-why-im-laughing-laughter-quote193062-Funny-Minion-Joke

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142ce0263f0876e1ec67aa4d4701aa8eAnd now, for the serious quotes (Just Kidding, there are no serious quotes)

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Funny-Minion-Quotes-Boss-told-me-to-have-a-good-day

Find-It-Funny

be55695067e0820840b9dae4880bc74cOK, seriously, here’s some serious ones:

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Laughter-Quotes-74

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That’s all the laughs I have for you today. Until next week, yall be great.

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A Time to Read

reading

In Shreveport, it started off with a collection of rain drops. They took the opportunity to brave the cooling breath of the skies for a chance to taste the ground. Some of them managed to lick rooftops, light poles, and the hoods of cars; relaxing liquid bodies into the cracks of the earth. But others, others were not so lucky. For the clouds let loose its storage place of wind and paralyzed their bodies midair. They had not the privilege of melting before their frozen futures hit the ground, many of them solidifying into ice cycles and poor trees. You have been suckered into shedding your skin again in the beloved south. Not moments after you begin to bud, the once soft petal of flower must choose not to photosynthesize, but to hibernate more inside that place where flowers go when they do not yet exist.

But what of all of this?

While I do not enjoy the cold (at all) it is a great time to read. And after the glaring sun the crisp bite to the air is refreshing. It is the time to find a good book. To lock yourselves into your dwellings. To warm a pot of tea, hot chocolate or coffee. To curl your legs into yourself and bury both your body and mind into the warm and compassionate world of words.