Posted in Musings, Photography, Poetry

Lay my Heart Down

Lay my heart down
and weep
what little time remains
I give it all
to you
the gift of all beauty
hidden from human eyes.
You are only fed to eager souls.

I won’t be gone long. How can I keep myself from being amongst all this grandeur?

I did a little beach cleanup. I hiked miles. I painted. I wrote. Nothing here keeps me from living. Everything here pushes me to go further. The seals and loons. The cawing of crow friends. A shy heron perched as if wind was nonexistent.

The waves rush in with new gifts of sea glass. The waves recede into the greater good. The flow of sea amends all the broken pieces of life.

Be well love, until I return.

Always, Jeanne

Posted in Art, Photography, Poetry

No Words at the Moment

Fractured
Can you hear me
make home
in the silence of the woods
where i watch freshly fallen snow
absorb her howl.
And i walk with a limp.

My days blend one into another. My to-do projects never quite finished. Ever chasing what best resembles my thoughts.

Posted in Photography, Poetry

Sacred Rhythm

Intellectual Honesty
Hips shifting. I hang a sign
“My soul is not for sale.”
around my neck.
People approach his upholstered chair
strategically positioned,

it remains vacant
in the consignment store.
I seat my language
upon the landscape vapor
a desert, embellished with torrid tears
helpless hearts, we are.

These frozen moments tucked indoors
you read me as tea leaves
floating swiftly towards the forest floor.

Embellished with a beady smile
you pour favor from a thousand rainbows
upon this ocean corridor.

Posted in Musings, Photography, Poetry

My View in the Evening

Autumn 2020
Morning overture
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.

Posted in Musings, Photography, Poetry

Sea Voice

Maybe im wrong. Maybe my belief you could surface, that you could soar above the fray…

Perhaps a jaded person is only in need of time? To resurface, resurrect, reconvene, replenish…

What did your water dream infuse you with? Healing. Quiet. Fear. Dismay.