Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: FRESH START (01/05/17)
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TITLE: Rebirthing Hope | Previous Challenge Entry
By Marlene Bonney
01/06/17 -
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A velvety flower petal curling ever so softly under the sun’s comforting warmth, renewed by the next rainfall. . .
A flighty bird’s feathers ruffling against the back-dropped horizon as it follows inborn instincts to fly south for the winter. . .
A freshly hatched baby robin, mouth open wide for its morning feeding, drying into a fuzzy cotton ball, declaring new birth. . .
A pristine white diamond-studded blanket of snow across the land, protesting the booted footsteps crunching holes into its fabric—never to be mended, but covered anew with the next fresh snowfall. . .
A green dewy blade of grass stretching beneath the fragrant breath of its Maker, promising a new, refreshing day. . .
A lone raindrop sliding down the glass window until it lands and dissipates and spreads across the windowpane, collecting dust in its wake—only to be chased by the next drop, landing willy-nilly to piggyback the first. . .
A fertile row of fallowed ground ready to devour the strewn seeds thrown on its ridges, like a thirsty desert-dweller at an oasis, rejuvenating fertility. . .
A snow-topped mountain peak stretching up to touch an unreachable sun, beckoning adventurers to climb its virgin knobby slope. . .
An ocean wave foaming against the shore, creeping closer and closer to flood a child’s sandcastle baking in the oven of an afternoon’s humidity, followed by a newer, larger one in its wake. . .
A tangle of neglected foliage turning and twisting among roadside wild flowers, assurances of renewed growth. . .
A muted rainbow arching across the distant sky, its fading colors splashing God’s promise of faithfulness to those who listen. . .
A path of brightly colored autumn leaves that skitter helter-skelter in the crisp blast of Old Man Winter’s approaching breath, prophesying an embarking event. . .
A cascading waterfall furling over rocky formations, baptizing the river into spools of refreshed cleansing. . .
A V-shaped flock of geese honking its way to unchartered destinations, trailblazing for those who would follow. . .
A hidden treasure chest of wondrous rocks, shells, and objects buried in a beach’s sifting sand, like handfuls of flour sifting through fingers, become reformed shiny wonders as they are washed over and over by each succeeding wave. . .
A storm’s fury, thunder and lightning like clashing and flashing cymbals, rages like a child’s temper tantrum and finally calms into eventual silence, spent—until the next one breaks anew. . .
A vegetable garden fertilizes combined scents and textures of growth and harmony, yielding up vitamins and nutrients and sustenance for its gleaners, revitalizing into its annual offering. . .
Ants and bees, grasshoppers and locusts, flies and spiders, mosquitoes and lightning bugs permeate and propagate the environment, a prolific, mysterious underworld of intricate creation only scratching the surface of nature. . .
Spiky icicles form into sharpened popsicles, frozen cobs that beckon children’s unsuspecting tongues, while packing snow makes forts and provides ammunition for snowball wars, repeating winter at its finest. . .
Crescents or full moons hang in the night-blackened sky, stars and constellations blinking across its expanse, a sparkly umbrella canopied over all that is beneath it, moving and changing into new conformations of splendor. . .
Snowflakes blowing through the winter air like flighty dandelion dust, newest ones born by the second. . .
Forests, thick and dense with tree branches, their floors covered with unrecognizable vegetation, each hesitating footstep on its floor sounding like a sharp gunshot in the distance, mere shadows of what they will become. . .
Jungles with wild animals and intermingled vines that twist into impossible tangled knots like knotted necklace chains creep and grow longer, nurtured by splattering sunlight and refreshing rain. . .
Nature cycles from old to new in each of its seasons, as refreshing as a pioneer child’s blank slate each morning. Another day, another month, another year is an opportunity to shine for its Creator. As fragile as we are, the Lord of tomorrows can make us as strong and resilient as the rest of His creation; for—in Him—hope is born, scaring away our shadows with a new chance to “do it right.â€
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