On vacation, she wanders slow,
to find some peace where warm winds blow,
where days drift by in gentle streams,
soft as a half remembered dream.
One morning in a sunlit space,
she finds a table, lined with grace,
upon it rests a waiting cup,
as though this moment was set up.
“My cup runneth over,” it reads,
quiet whisper her spirit needs,
she lifts it gently, takes a sip,
as the world shifts beneath her grip.
She sips, and suddenly the air,
shifts into desert, bright and bare,
warm heat ripples through silent sand,
a boundless, shimmering, gold land.
A man in robes of black stands still,
beneath the enchanting light’s spill,
the beige fades to deep red so slow,
as sunlit waves rise, fall, and glow.
The vision fades, but leaves her whole,
a quiet fullness in her soul,
she feels excitement overflow,
with gifts of wonder she now knows.
– Grace Y. Estevez – Reddy
Response to Sadje’s picture prompt on What Do You See # 315 November 17 , 2025
This weeks prompt offered two picture options. This poem was inspired by both pictures. 💕