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

The Path

The Path

Trust not in oppression, and become not vain in robbery: if riches increase, set not your heart upon them.

Psalm 62:10

Knowledge is fickle
bending and swaying through mouths
foisted upon a dark horse
swiftly the war mounts
against innocent hearts

fervently pray for peace to return
that men of courage
break this bondage
may we rest our eyes on beauty
and smoke the sky with incense

Since January 2019 I feel a call to be a peacemaker. While i do not entirely understand the path i walk, i do focus on ways to be productive in pursuing peace among men. Differences aside, i do hope we all agree that riches are fleeting. What is everlasting is the spirit of love.

Posted in Photography, Poetry

patient times

i long laid down my pencil
liberated from reckless love
my pining heart grew
for grassy meadows
and sun lit skies
of opulent hues.

Something beautiful to focus
the agony of the world
relinquished to peaceful calm.

Posted in Poetry

soar

pushing
my feet
can feel ground
head in the clouds
i will rise to fly
paradise

Posted in Music Video, Musings, Photography, Poetry

collision course

Oh my. I think i said too much. I can be quite careless, sparked by passion. Lit by a struck match and ignited by fuel. Kaboom! I have definitely gone off in too many directions.

Without giving away every secret attraction, i best quit while ahead of myself… wait for my senses to catch up.

No worries though. i am rolling towards a cool breeze to sit near the waves. Settle this sizzle. i need to cool off. Lava easily burns. No need to hurt myself or others.

i will find my footing and self-discipline. Discover where i want this blog to go.

What life holds in the cradle of birth waits in the depths of dark…

J💜🕊🎶🎶🎶

Posted in Musings, Poetry, Soul Journal

Moving Day is here!

Staying out of the movers way!
Looking toward the day
I can rest my mind and rhyme -Think!
Set up my writing desk
find a place to paint -Dream!
until then, i pledge
to stay out of the movers way.

The biggest day of my life, since i moved to Indiana, has arrived. From this day forward, i move without knowing the future. Security is in the past. Adventure awaits those who walk with eyes wide open.

Trying not to cry! Feeling the exhilarating new of Boston on my brow! My heart is racing, wondering what lies ahead.

And excited to have lots of time to read back posts. See you at your blog soon!

Posted in Musings, Photography, Poetry

life happens

Do we owe apologies when life happens? My heart ♥️ is discombobulated at the moment. I miss you dear readers and i made a brief appearance this morning after a welcome disappearance from the world. A friend and i made away to the wooded hills of Brown County, in my expedient retreat from the hustle and bustle of moving. And i stopped to breath. And a few words made it to the surface, popped and left stains on paper. I shared them with you from the encouragement of another. Thank you for reading.

death of an era

I have not been able to read any of your blogs and i want to. I desperately feel i owe you that curtesy and i cannot fulfill that endeavor. I want to be able to think, write and paint. But i cannot. I want to reach out, touch and exchange smiles. But i cannot. I want to scream, be heard and cry. But i cannot.

Life happens. But i am not.

I remain enclosed in self-protection from the chaos of realtor showings, movers approaching with boxes, tape and sharpies. I am spinning and not on tip-toe.

At the moment i remain confused. I do not profess to understand the complexities i am passing through. Your worlds are miles away and cannot be reached. My world is slipping from my hands.

my promise garden

These are moments to cherish. The labor of my hands have shown to say hello, one more time. And goodbye forever.

—-

I wrote a poem to a friend this past weekend. (See below.) I sent it off to him. He did not respond. Silence weighs heavy on my head. I do not understand his absence after sharing his desire to reciprocate. Another of his small deaths looming?

clipped wings
found the feathers

who wastes their life?
bundled in piles
yellowed-papers
faded ink scribbles

unable to decipher his path forward
white lady
entangles with her promises.