This week the topic for the Five Minute Friday link-up post is Common. What is a link-up? Essentially a link-up is when you join other bloggers and write on a similar topic. You share your blog posts with one another and begin conversations via a host site. You can head over to Kate Motaung’s page to check out other entries from inspired bloggers. Here’s my five minutes of uninterrupted, unedited writing on this week’s topic:
She stands out in a crowd.
The other children walk right past her.
Hands painted in soft henna.
Hair concealed by the scarf
That her religion requires.
Fear of her answers keep them from asking.
Silence surrounds her like an aura.
She’s a stranger to everyone.
A friend to none.
Her words are few.
The language foreign.
She’s uncommon and unknown.
Unspoken to and unwelcomed.
Everyone is afraid to know
Where she comes from and what she’s seen.
They make her an outsider
In the land of diversity.
I’ve seen past her walls
And there is beauty.
I’ve seen past the henna and the scarf
And she’s just like everyone else.
We’re all trying to make it
And to find joy in this life.
We all have that in common.
The Ameri Brit Mom
This week the topic for the Five Minute Friday link-up post is Want. What is a link-up? Essentially a link-up is when you join other bloggers and write on a similar topic. You share your blog posts with one another and begin conversations via a host site. You can head over to Kate Motaung’s page to check out other entries from inspired bloggers. Here’s my five minutes of uninterrupted, unedited writing on this week’s topic:
Today is our final day in Chicago before our flight to England for the remainder of the month. For today’s Five Minute Friday post I decided to recount my memories and thoughts from my morning walk along Chicago’s famous Magnificent Mile.
Wanting in the City
by Lauren Sisley
The cityscape surrounds me.
Tall, ivory concrete blocks my view on all sides.
The wind and sun crisp my skin.
My elbows graze the shopper beside me
As I travel down Michigan Avenue:
The Magnificent Mile.
The sound of bags bouncing on arms fill the air.
I breathe in fried food and cigarette smoke with each slow inhale.
People speak loudly–in different languages– into headsets,
But never to each other.
How funny it is that one can be so lonely in a city so big.
It’s fun to visit,
But I could never stay.
As people rush about seeking out things that they want,
I realize that I have all I could ever want.
And it didn’t cost a dollar.
Some go broke in pursuit of goods.
While those who lack have plenty.
What I own is little.
What I want is free.
This Is My Time: Ode to First Light
At first light I am alone, but also accompanied by characters, stories, and worlds borne of an imagination. Burning a candle on both ends I slave away in my den breaking only for sips of tepid coffee. The other members of my family are fast asleep in their beds. They dream as I toil in my craft spinning words into sentences and sentences into stories.
This is my time.
I write to stay afloat. An affection has been forged between language and my fingertips. With each swipe of a pen my hands breathe life into letters. The pulse behind each syllable aches to be heard.
This is my time.
By noon, I know, this won’t be true. A lunch will need made. A baby will need dressed. Laundry will need folded. Plants will need watered. That’s why I awake at first light ready and armed with a coffee, pen, paper, and computer.