Posted in Musings, Photography, Poetry, Soul Journal

Making Meaning

Pebbles

Honoring creation, realizing there are no mistakes. We are born whole, flung into the air, and immediately plopped into crisp blankets. Fresh fabric woven to caress our skin. The fortunate ones know love from the beginning.

The wailing ensues. Lost in the noise of moving parts. Who can understand the tragedy of dying?

I gather stones like bread crumbs. Each shape resembles a thought. Each thought encompasses a season. Each season of drought, famine, abundance, joy, grief, weighs heavy on the mind. Until. Until i lay my heart on the rock bed and weight the tears. I either sink or rise. And the vapor of breath becomes a fog. The inner vines of making meaning tangle up the process, and threaten my life.

One day at a time. Release the illness. Gather the rocks. Warm yourself with their captured sun. Notice the colors swirling within. Grays, blacks, oranges, blues, greens. Reds and whites too.

Posted in Musings, Poetry

Temporal

I love the idea of making meaning. Procuring symbols to represent my time here on earth. So I arrange favorite pieces in an alter space.

Music and rhythm touch an inner sanctum only I am privy too. No one, not even a trusted friend, can enter now. The notes descend the mountain and no echo returns.

Scents were like rain, or birds. They left and came back.

Erica Bauermeister, The Scent Keeper

Posted in Poetry

Kindred Soul

Current Reads 7/2022
Im drowning in my own thoughts
five foot waves threaten me
and scattered seeds lie dormant

all the while i yearn your company
i retreat to find that black hole
dug years ago for such a time

exists only in dreams.
Posted in Photography, Poetry

Oceans

salt sprays of pleasure
ghosting footprints in sieved sands
waves of indulgence

June 8 is world ocean day. And what better way to show appreciation of the ocean’s influence in our lives than to capture the day in photographs.

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

Ocean

There is no where I feel as at home than by the ocean. The seaweed stretches to reach the foot that otherwise wobbles on land. Words fail to describe the ecstasy. If you could hold happiness, you could hold me. But sand slips through fingers and salt water breezes brush past man.