THE BLACK RASPBERRY PICKING: IT’S ALL ABOUT PERSPECTIVE. A hot, sunny day. Solid blue, the late day buzz of locusts, cicadas calling me to the rhythms of life. it’s their call that epitomizes those lazy days of summer. I went into the market and asked where their blackberry bushes were for picking today. Directions simple, … More It’s all about Perspective
I looked in the mirror today. Were my perfections or my imperfections starring back at me? Was I receiving or rejecting? I saw an aging face, I saw a tired woman. I felt her feelings of lack. Lack of energy, stamina, and get up and go. When or how did the vibrant evaporate? It’s a … More Years, Mirrors and Batteries.
What a canvas! The sky and I, we drift together. Deep, mysterious, unpredictable, colorful. Oh sky reign down on me, reign all of your colors on me. Paint me, paint all of me.
My gratitude list floated and churned in the stream today. I meditated at its edge watching the water ripple, bubble, run down and jump back up. Some water seemed resistant to the concept of downstream its like it jumped back, bubbled and then fell back down in some sort of resolve. Once again I am … More I’m thawing.
Flickering lights rose like sparks from a roaring fire. Floating toward the stars. Flirting with the trees. Skimming the grasses and reeds. An infinite stream of living lights, Dancing with the sky. Joy Cloud 🙂
Melodies stir among the branches, soft clear echoes. Tranquility infused. A lover’s first touch brushes past my face my neck my arm. A stirring a shedding an invisible drape cascades away. A fullness of nothing…..of everything. Blood pulses through my veins. My Breathe moves the air And the silence listens.
Last week I was in that mood: You know the one, where clutter shouts from the corners, the pockets, the drawers, even the rooftops! The only reasonable thing to do was to lace up my boots and go for a walk in the woods. Thank goodness I did. Do you know what I found? I … More Clutter in my drawers. Clutter in the woods.
I am here I am there Lingering Moments Don’t last Savor Memory Bending twisting So pliable Almost unbreakable I think Lingering Moments … More The Art of Being
The sky is a crisp cold blue, I lay on our blue couch reading the Snow Child. I well with emotion upon the words; “In my old age I see that life itself is often more fantastic and terrible than the stories we believed in as children, and that perhaps there is no harm in … More “Untouchably” Touched
Splotches of paint thrown on the canvas of my mind Dripping, slowly through my words … More A Drift
Welcome to Wonder 