open wide sand skies
sparkles two moons of feelin’
waves of molten juice
the layer beneath
keep digging until you find
fresh cut grass, growing
this jagged heart line
avoid the cracks midst the stones
criss cross hope to die
one sideways glance right
was it methane burning low
ice crystals froze tight
trek shore of eternal soul
don the evening’s shawl
Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to body and soul. John Muir
People. We are complicated and simple. We are shy and rowdy. We are there in the city and here in the country. We are seen and invisible. We exist and then die.
We are, in the quiet pause, an eruption. And will always be the star.
the stillness of earth
a song well versed and rehearsed
watch my shadow crawl
What is going on with you creatively?
The haiku is taken from an expressive arts class 4/3/2020. The photo is from 10/6/2020. Life has been a bit hectic lately. Changes in my life never cease. I put a halt to my REACE training midsummer due to conflicts. My training will resume in February 2021, with a new venue out of San Diego CA.
I look forward to continuing the expressive arts as they bring me much calmness and energy. A centering of my heart is needed in the tumultuous times we find ourselves. And I am rather certain for time to come. Although others I know are feeling a respite coming. My thoughts are knowing whether it is a false peace trembling to capture imagination and souls. Or something so luminous we will barely be able to stand.
My plans going forward, once I am able to mentally give energy to all my dreams, is a new blog, Shed 33.3, to replace Soul Signs, which will incorporate all my life loves. 🥰🥳🎈🎈🎈 Although this blog will remain indefinitely as it captures the impermanence of my being. And of nature’s caress. The rawness, the muddy waters, and the hidden aspects of growth, unequivocally shared.
So stay tuned! And please consider contributing to the adventure with your soulful poems, The Poet’s Wonderment, Gift Crow, Vol 1. Read about this endeavor here. I can be reached at email@example.com.
Happy writing!! Jeanne ✍🏼
Stubborn hearts wander
wilderness vanity haunts
uneasy clouds cry
Good morning. We got rain yesterday evening, starting around four in the afternoon. The winds came rushing in and we lost power. We needed the rain desperately. So I am very grateful the storm popped up. Here is to a week of cooler temperatures in Mass and hopefully the rain pours. How is the weather by you?
I left a bit of blue in the photographed sky, as a hopeful promise. To escape the blackened feeling of Covid, drought, and people’s unrest, keep peace in your heart this week. Love your neighbor and look up!
lay ears upon me
the steady beat of fever
the silent wings fly
I miss handwritten notes, long talks, music, and prayers. I miss Indiana friends.
I feel a victim of the present instant gratification culture. Unwittingly, I have been swallowed whole by a mob mentality of shoving and pushing our way to the top. The guise of morality when we know we are sinners. The breach of sacred life has been cheapened with money.
I know myself. But how well? And how well do I know you? Are we all numbers and votes and popularity slogans? Will I be diminished if the politicians and I disagree?
Perhaps I best live and let it all go. Release the slogans and messages, the poetry and art. Let my world be still. To then be reborn, so when I write or paint or dance it means I am living free. To not feed the monsters we all have become.
I couldn’t wait to post on Monday. Six Australorp hens, corralled in a cardboard box, arrived at the post office early dawn. It was joyous to find out no casualties.
Just two days old and their wing feathers are forming. The hardest heart cracks as egg shells when these chicks peep! 💛🐥💛🎶
dawn breaks open hearts
the first light enters pitch black
chicken family hatched