Im tired of the blather
long to be whisked forth
where nature knows what is best.
knots: earth rests
Tag: voice
Month in Review: B&W Style
Frida Sage or Fenny Hope? 
The first egg 
First season’s snow 20/21 
My first snowshoe walk 
Fruitlands 
Narnia 
Bare Hill Pond
Families
Families
Families
— Read on bereavedsingledad.blog/2020/12/27/families/
I enjoy Gary’s musings. This particular writing certainly felt familiar. Family is a funny thing. And the thing is, as terrible as 2020 was, it taught me an enormous pot of wisdom. And 2021 will be all the better for my new found knowledge and attempts to keep going forward. To dreams! To visions! To destiny!
Happy creating, Jeanne
Art Night
this jagged heart line
avoid the cracks midst the stones
criss cross hope to die
Winter Feast
If I stopped now
would i know tomorrow
the blurred foxglove in hand
the brandished iron in the other
staking the outcome by name.
If yesterday never arrived
do your best dear friend
to remember love
the petaled feet
I swept away, one-by-one, by hand.
Six Word Story (No. 10)
Six Word Story (No. 10)
Six Word Story (No. 10)
— Read on frosthidden.com/2020/12/12/six-word-story-no-10/
Lots of thought provoking 6-word stories…
Organic
Spring has run
the drifting fragrance
smells of dark
Her mad world
a blown leaf nestled
dew remains
Sacred Rhythm
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.
Ever
It’s the same story i tell. Because the book wont close, no matter how often and long i beg it, to lock itself away.
“Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing.” —Sylvia Plath
My View in the Evening
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.
