Posted in Art, Musings, Photography, Poetry

Thursday Doors —Sound Dreams

Letting Go of Control, 2020

Look deep within
to find the shape of you.

In the bliss of life, we sail.
Although nightmares prevail.

Dreams are doors to the unconscious. Yesterday’s dream had no picture. Audio only.

I know I had this dream as someone let me know I was in a euphoric state of happiness while deeply unaware. In this state, I released small sighs of glee and excitement.

I do remember the emotions now after being questioned this morning. I was reminded of the experience and I want to understand more. I searched for imageless dreaming and found relatively little on the subject.

So what would an awareness of life be like if we never sensed objects? What door would mean anything? Every step would be a transport to eternity.

So sleep well friends. Rest a while and may you be blessed with sweet dreams. Sound fantasy without image to bitter the taste.

Have any of you ever had such dreams? I am curious if anyone has leads to read further on the subject. Please send links!!! 😘❤️

Norm 2.0 Thursday Doors

Posted in Musings, Photography, Poetry

Thursday Doors (Open or Shut)

The heart is the door to your soul.

What doors do you require to walk through, to understand yourself? Your neighbor’s door? Your back door? A stranger’s door?

Jesus said, ‘I am the door’ (John 10:7) in order to make it clear that no one can come to the Father except through Him. 

The church
of and for
and is
the people.
I am ill.
My heart is broken
in need of deep repair
and I wept at the sign
hung around my neck
that read “tired soul”.

Worcester MA has many beautiful church buildings. These church doors were closed so no inside photos. So why do churches lock their doors? Why do we feel it is okay to criticize these doors being locked versus locking our home’s doors? And to be fair, they posted a sign to try the doors on a side street. So when did I stop knocking?

Wesley United Methodist Church

Thanks to Norm 2.0 Thursday Doors for hosting all the doors weekly.

Posted in Photography, Poetry

Thursday Doors

Sarasota Florida has marvelous doors. The weather is grand too. You might decide to stay outdoors when visiting. Although when the humidity is too high, the luxury of air-conditioned indoors might suit you.

The area I stayed is an artist’s colony. The Ringling Museum of Art is nearby. That will be a destination on my next visit in October.

the first step is key
not recommended to look
backwards is fateful

Join the door fun and let Norm 2.0 know you are participating! I was infatuated with doors for ever and realized so many others are equally in love with the symbol, so linking with other door fanatics seemed the next best step! Or do it on your own. Either way, cheers 🍻!

Posted in Photography, Poetry, quotes, short fiction

Portal Vision

Norm 2.0 Thursday 🚪

Stuff your eyes with wonder… Ray Bradbury

The leaves tumbled to form a soft blanket around her worn out feet. She had stopped the lengthy trek into the woods, as she had made many evenings before, to hear the softest of sounds coming from the east.

“Hello?” she managed to ask a feeble question that went unnoticed by anything or anyone, except herself. She continued to mumble her thoughts, losing track of the moon, now turned west and setting, for the hour had come to welcome Pan.

His song grew mesmerizing and cast a glow about her face. The hoofs of his feet took a beat to match her heart. Ivy vines wrapped around her legs and gently lowered her to the ground. She lay silent and watched as a figure grew close, shrouded in cloud, as the fog had grown thick from a cool evening breeze that washed away the heat of the sun’s hour.

“Listen now and I shall follow.” his words he whispered softly to her ear as she dreamed upon the moss and stone. “In the evening I so chose to find a lady to hear my sorrow.” She picked up the largest of the white pearly rock and rubbed it to a mirror. Gazing she noticed her face had softened with heated blush and rouge. With a swipe, her finger licked off the red and she wrote this mystical creature a poem.

Come! o come! Wisp me away
my devilish friend
who comes to stay
in purple passion
and eternal fray.

The sea has brought you wandering
the glen and forest true
to find your maiden
wrapped and warm
with fire in her head.

Come! o come! you hear me say
the years have worn you down
my cheer, not strife
with flute and pipe
the sorrow worn upon a frown.

The oaks are laden with brimming nuts
and food to last our spring
will come and we shall live
in magic harmony,
arm in arm for eternity.

As Pan approached the fairness of her heart, he bent to touch her silken hair, now golden to light time. He grasped her hungrily and the evening’s stars disappeared. The winter of his discontent vanished into spring. And their summer child frolicked gaily upon the streams.

The Pan statue photographed can be found in the woods at Tower Hill Botanic Gardens in Boylston MA. It is quite a lovely place to stir the imagination. Happy writing, J

https://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=god+pan+music&&view=detail&mid=A813A86C1207D8D47D88A813A86C1207D8D47D88&&FORM=VRDGAR

 

 

Posted in Musings, Photography, Random

Knock, Knock…

Norm 2.0 Thursday Doors

What news!! We are making an offer on a house today. And it is absolutely, mind-blowing gorgeous. This rock wall, which Massachusetts is infamously famous, is even more magnificent then this picture depicts. In fact, my heart barely blips on the screen when i look at this photo.

The rock is 20 feet tall and looks west towards Mount Wachusett. There is a perfect view perched atop this mighty fortress. A quick stroll down the road and this…

Posted in Musings, Photography

Boston Doors

Thursday Doors – Door Lovers

Now that I am in a new locale, I can hardly wait to share Boston doors -another door paradise!

When one door shuts, another opens. I have found this to be true. Except I am waiting for the last door opened, to shut! Please, someone buy our house in Indiana! I am begging the gods or God or Karma or even the boogey man at this point! One, because i am looking to buy a new house and nothing can happen until our old house has vanished from my mind! Yes, i am never too proud to beg! Two, i am becoming superstitious and paranoid.

Would love to open this house’s front door and settle my heart “in”doors! The rain is messing up my hair and attitude and the sun is burning my soul. Real estate hell is real!

Posted in Art, Memoir, music, Photography, Poetry, Soul Journal, travel

Thursday Doors – January 11, 2018

Thursday Doors January-11-2018

Church is poetry. Poetry is life. A life well lived.

img_3049
House of Blues Entrance (Gospel Brunch)

The house was hopping
Souls set free
The world woken
The Lord spoken to me.
These toes were tappin’
chairs set aside
no sittin’ lookin’ pretty
church is alive…

I would go to church everyday if the Lord spoke to me as He clearly had the house rocking in Orlando…  The Brotherhood sung us to heaven and God’s glory shone like the lighthouse these men are.  To live their lives for others a gift to humanity and they brought joyful sounds along with them to Orlando.

Enter the gates and bring a joyful sound.
Praise the creation as a soul unbound.
No earthly worries allowed here,
just lay them at the Lord’s feet.

A long time ago, 1992, I  was invited to a co-worker’s church.  I accepted.  I brought my then two year old daughter along and I sat in the farthest pew from the front.  I certainly felt unworthy to be in the crowd of rollicking, holy rollers, speaking in the Lord’s temple.  I was fallen to the soil in a heap of ash, barely breathing, wanting all breath to cease.  But there was an existing spark, buried, and my co-worker recognized and ignited it…  well, sort of.

Toward the end of the service people were invited to the alter to be blessed by the Word and she encouraged me to go forward.  I took my daughter with me.  The Deacons prophesied over us Psalm 91.  For those not familiar with the Bible, Psalm 91 concerns angels and their watch over His children.

At the time, I was unfamiliar with the verse and left church feeling no different.  About a year later we moved to New York City, my husband obtaining a postdoctoral fellowship with Prof. Danishevsky at Sloan-Kettering Memorial Hospital as a cancer researcher.  The Lord knew I needed plenty of help raising a toddler in New York City.  He sent His angels to surround my daughter as I navigated the city streets with a two year old who refused to hold my hand.  She had two near-death experiences, but an unseen hand saved her from perishing.

New York City was a wake up call.  I am quite naive about the earth’s perils.  The world is a dangerous place to exist.  New York City turned me into an angelic mother.  I declared there would be no more messing around.  I had to become serious in the plight of motherhood.

Now, where are the angels I need for this last daughter?  Send them, quickly!!!