Posted in Photography, Poetry

Spirit of Place

Evensong June 3, 2022
in a search 
that brought me here
upon a helm
of transformation
to cleanse my thoughts
of introspection
and focus on people’s healing

the task is naught
i often fear
then hope arrives upon the clouds
to shelter us from sudden doom
and resume our fervent cry
in hopes the heavens hear
the daily drumbeat we supply
All sorts of lovely June 3, 2022

Last night i took the time to acknowledge how grateful i am for all this beauty surrounding my senses. Peace resides here. And within my body.

There will always be turmoil in the world. We must search for the presence of the Creator in whatever place we call home.

Posted in Photography, Poetry
Love bites.
Silent reflections radiate -loudly
meter beats ponder
the tempo of marching feet.

I wrote my heart on paper
you stopped the wind
-grasped my thoughts
wrapped by sweetened flesh and salted sweat.
Posted in Photography, Poetry

Winter Feast

If I stopped now
would i know tomorrow
the blurred foxglove in hand
the brandished iron in the other
staking the outcome by name.


If yesterday never arrived
do your best dear friend
to remember love
the petaled feet
I swept away, one-by-one, by hand.
Posted in Musings, Photography, Poetry

Tender Green Shoot

In every vision black consumes the mind. Defines the boundary line.

In moments of clarity I sing. In moments of despair I moan. In this moment I spy the green seeping from your eyes.

We step in the shallow pool where leaves gather in cooler days. The reds, yellows, and oranges ripen with the setting sun. Browns crunch under our shoes. Your fingers wrap around my wrist, clenching my pulse to see if I respond. I don’t. But I do.

I reach for the new growth you promised me years ago. I see it now. The tender green shoots sprout from your heart.

Posted in Musings, Photography, Soul Journal

Alone

Yesterday, so many old feelings returned. Im angry. Im hurt. The relays of old films played all day in my mind. Scenarios I thought Id forgiven.

I was triggered into old patterns of behaving. Im utterly sad. After the heated emotions, I remind myself to keep forgiving them, so Im spared further damage to my heart.

I suppose I’m depressed too. My soul is tired and art has lost all color. Damn if I haven’t fallen hard.

I know this too will pass. The sun will shine again. But I am broken and hurt and mad.

Forgiveness promises very little in the midst of anguish. In the morning I plan to rise.

Posted in Musings, Photography, Poetry

Ego



“You’re on earth. There’s no cure for that.” —Samuel Beckett
I fight against 
two diseases.

Covid has an ego
and you bow to it’s confines.
Fear is the last death of humanity
to be obeyed
and breathed as decay
to satisfy another ego.

Nature tames and destroys.

We often fawn over a bird song
but turn our eyes away from the blood
on an eagle’s beak.
That very beak eats
should it’s appetite seek you.

My mind is cruising around the mountainous thoughts rising. What are we doing? Saving our selves or destroying others?

I see this time in history differently. Many believers hope people will return to God. I see the fear pushing more people into the dark. Worshipping people who carry a motto. I see them birthing destruction far greater a war than all wars together. Not caring for others. Rather, turning inward and away from spirit. Saving themselves while blaming others..

I see the scenario much differently than most I know. The destruction of goodness to usher in a masked sense of security. Death wins again.

Author’s note. I wrote this at the very beginning of the pandemic. I did not publish for various reasons. Does it feel right now? Not really. I am hoping a conversation starts… I am listening.