The dVerse prompt today is prose poetry. It seems as though it’s not too different to prose, so I’m giving it a whirl.
Take time as it comes, tick-tocking in its pre-ordained rhythm, the same for you, the salmon in the river and the robin singing in the tree. Raise your eyes from the clock and watch clouds form and reform and the play of light on dappling water. Count the irises on the bank and the clouds of celandine, watch the ripening of blackberries and the turning of the leaves, day by day.
Make a painting of the minutes, a novel of the hours and spread them about you, a bulwark against the slowing of the blood. Build climbing trellises for roses and string vines between tall trees for shade and fruit. String moments like pale-faced daisies on a chain of green. Shape your space and fill it with beauty.
In time, all things whither and die, so set your seed, build your mountains circled with soaring gulls, and sing the songs that whisper in the wind, strum the strings of winter sedge, and live each moment that the earth gives.