Writing Prompt 23

Welcome to the twenty-third day of our 30/30!

We’re on the home stretch, y’all. High fives all around.

Your prompt today is:


I always expected to make this journey:
Alternatively: I never expected to make this journey



Image credit www.cliparts.co
Guidelines, if you want them:

  • Posting your response is not required
  • Feel free to post your response   🙂
  • This is not meant to be the perfect first draft – respond without hesitation for 5-7 minutes, then keep going if you want to
  • While our prompts are geared towards poetry, we welcome all kinds of artists
  • Tips & encouragement are here


  1. Been thinking much about Bilbo’s unexpected journey,
    not always so easy to get from here to there.
    High water in Houston this week
    makes me think twice about venturing anywhere.
    Tao says no need to stray,
    so does Mother Theresa.
    All we seek is here, in our backyard,
    even closer – in our being,
    our heart, our soul.

    I never expected to leave my hometown.
    I never expected to live a thousand miles from family/friends.
    I never expected to run away from motherhood at age 47.
    I never expected to visit daughters in prison.
    I never expected to journey into new spiritual realms.
    I never expected to meet so many wonderful companions.
    I never expected to feel so isolated.
    So much of life proves to be an unexpected journey.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Pingback: #NationalPoetryMonth’16 Round-up (Day 23) | Bonespark~

  3. Rising wind teases the dandelion
    fluff from the thousand seed heads.
    Mow one night and count them the
    next day. Their journeys unpredictable
    nor did I intend to make this latest
    one, traveling organist among three
    churches, two organs, one old spinet.
    Years away from the eleven year old
    that could barely reach the manuals
    on the cathedral church instrument,
    that proudly graced the choir loft,
    75th & Main in the big city. This is
    Still the girl who sat in the dark auditorium,
    Listened to the endless mantra delivered
    by the stern teacher about not looking at our
    fingers. How else to see them I’d think
    but dared not say, but past those failed
    dreams and endless reams of paper,
    administrative and graded, the keys
    find my fingers in these tiny sanctuaries
    where weekend mornings find me
    practicing with cantors, putting up
    hymn numbers for the services and
    hoping every journey is a good one.

    Liked by 1 person

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