Liquid landscapes
visceral views
baptized by an anointed muse…
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Saturday reflections…
“Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting – over and over announcing your
place in the family of things.”
―
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting – over and over announcing your
place in the family of things.”
―
stop along the way
be drawn by reflections,
hold color within your breath,
and loose all direction… on gritty paths
of fortitude,
she pardons every sin,
cloud formations
bless you,
and favor strokes your skin… scramble from grumbling,
be astonished by the sights
of lucid wild geese,
of phosphorescent heights…
Lamentations are freed
and absorbed
by the flora,
afflictions will dissipate
and become
radiant auras…
You don’t have to walk for miles
just settle
on the banks;
and feel great admiration
for a cosmos
giving thanks…
be drawn by reflections,
hold color within your breath,
and loose all direction… on gritty paths
of fortitude,
she pardons every sin,
cloud formations
bless you,
and favor strokes your skin… scramble from grumbling,
be astonished by the sights
of lucid wild geese,
of phosphorescent heights…
Lamentations are freed
and absorbed
by the flora,
afflictions will dissipate
and become
radiant auras…
You don’t have to walk for miles
just settle
on the banks;
and feel great admiration
for a cosmos
giving thanks…
Evanescence
“These wounds won’t seem to heal, this pain is just too real
There’s just too much that time cannot erase”
― My Immortal.
I’m drawn into light
the intensity of blue,
letting it wash
over me
and call me into view…
To allow particles
to evaporate,
evanescing
in stillness
of a perfect escape… No longer remembering
the terror
of defeat,
just a little soul searching
to choreograph
relief…
I come from…
Day eleven…
I come from the soil of Africa
where animals roam the plains,
from land snatched by colonizers,
from blood-soaked terrains…
I come from undeserved privilege,
enshrouded in my bones,
I come from sanguinary struggle,
calling out to be known…
I come from the blindness, of unconscious tribes,
I come from heinous conflict and prejudice that divides…
I come from a garden city,
where warm reservoirs flow,
from the desire of ancestors,
shaped by flesh and bone…
I come from dysfunction and secretive things,
a flawed Earthling, with invisible wings…
I come from intellectualism,
craving to be known,
born a relentless dreamer,
struck by moonstone!
I come from academics, with trophies to boast,
I come from the acquiescence of voiceless revolts…
I come from
the Divine dance,
my true self in hiding,
I come from sacred innocence
a mystical arising…
I come from beyond the stars
wiping out isolation,
I come from halcyon outlooks,
an evolving generation…
I come from colors, that spill across skies,
I come from majestic landscapes,
and lights that crystallize…
I come from wildflowers
from osseous matter,
magical anointings,
I come from grace that’s scattered
I come from the sonority of consciousness seeing,
I come from creation
transmuted by deeper meaning…
Sometimes…
Blessed be those who looked for you
and found you, their kind hands
urgent to open a blue window
in the gray wall formed around you.
― John O’Donohue, To Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Blessings
Sometimes it hits me
full force
head on
like a freight train
crushing my bones
turning me to dust…
And only a tiny spark
hides in plain sight
wanting to reach me
and bring me back to life…
The kindling
of my very last hopes
and dreams
in ashes
trembling
watching till the bitter end…
And the credits roll out
and all I can see
is the list
of light-filled souls
who stood by me!
Wordless Wednesday
Living in the slow lane…
Day nine… bringing some perspective…
waking to exuberant birds
hoping to unearth wise words…
things to do
at a snail’s pace
hushed observations
summoning grace
cleaning bathrooms
making beds
humdrum chores
mess
with my head…
lengthy tea breaks
tasty lunch
noon siestas
helps a bunch…
no choir to sustain
tedious tasks
and scrubbing drains…
touching paints
as they vibrate
perceived images
it’s getting late
the colors swirl
and form thoughts
ideas flow
into feelings caught…
walking down country roads
butterflies lighten heavy loads
and sprinkle hope
on my jaded past
movement of sun is fading fast
birds tweet and call out
believing them
without a doubt
entwined in nature’s flings
encountering wasps
avoiding stings…
dinner requires me to be present
it never was a cosmic event
cutting beans
shredding cabbage
stuck in mundane habits…
have I found enlightened living
daily chants and thanks-giving…
fluffy pillows
soft breath
quiet dreams
I lay my head
beneath starlight
the moon waves
another day of being brave…
