through the hourglass it falls,
the endless cycle of a love
reclining in the shade
seduced by winter dreams
til it slips back into your arms
breathing through the monologue of time
to find you
Song for Tom/Maya Johanna
-just breathe-
hourglass
Month: April 2020
goddess
and she opened her arms
upon a cosmic wave she released the beats of an undying heart
the ancients answered, flooding the seas with souls
life eternal from the chalice we sipped
soaking upon her soil, where blooms fused with newborn breaths
to the call of the wild we danced, we wed
as the cedars praised and anointed us with eyes to see, to be
to rise, to fall
to sing, to cry
to laugh, to love
to whisper, to scream
to learn, to teach
to share, to know
as she all the while sat in wait for us to return to her gates
feeding unto her the gifts we learned to share unto thee, an allegiance of her love an undying rite
knowing passage comes not to all that shan’t sit beneath the shade hearing the trees
yet still giving, in hopes one day we’d all see
before the bell tolled.
Ghost/Helvetesfonster
Image by Brian Kirhagis
This was solely inspired by the instrumental, Helvetesfonster, by Ghost. It’s a bit of a long digestion but if you can listen with the thoughts of life from the quiet stillness of creation to the awakening to the dance to the slowed, reserved pace and then finally to returning to the soil.
All of this flows as if dancers upon a stage, in a forest, lined with great sequoia’s and ancient oaks while mother nature’s children sit as quiet observers, when I listen to this exquisite instrumelntal.
I originally wrote this for Earth Day but with the world in such a waterfall of pain and fear right now I thought it a humble sentiment, a reminder that mother Earth shall always embrace us when we need her. We but need to have faith, trust and love and return to her all that she gives unto us unconditionally so.
-just breathe-
sunday’s
lazy sunday mornings
the warmth of you
tangled up in me
and nowhere to be
-just breathe-
Mackenzie Littledale – Writer: On Writing – MICROFICTION Part 1 – Prison Break
Mackenzie Littledale – Writer: On Writing – MICROFICTION Part 1 – Prison Break
— Read on mackenzielittledalewrites.blogspot.com/2020/04/on-writing-microfiction-part-1-prison.html
When your photography inspires a short story with a Thelma and Louise meets Orange is the New Black feel to it..Ms. Littledale promises a continuation soon 🤗
escape: haiku
i need not escape
these parts of me in their lean
as they seek your sun
-just breathe-
tense: haiku
no matter the tense
it is you that owns my thoughts
present, past, future
HIKING THE NARROWS IN ZION NATIONAL PARK – ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW — Yvonne’s Travel Blog
If you are an outdoor enthusiast, hiking the Narrows in Zion National Park is most likely on your bucket list, and for a good reason. The Narrows, or…
HIKING THE NARROWS IN ZION NATIONAL PARK – ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW — Yvonne’s Travel Blog
the chase: NaProWriMo
the darlings,
those little fledglings below
how they tickle my feathers,
tame my song
as earthen creatures try to plot an escape
from my fickle fancy of chase
Today’s prompt for National Poetry Writing Month was to imagine yourself an object or animal and write from their perspective. I chose a bird, full of moxy in his morning view awaiting breakfast.
Robins are always about and often as I watch from my picture window (where I captured this image) I see personalities flutter about. Some brazen, some bossy, some blending in with the leaves. Others all business while fledglings at heart give way to wing spirited games.
wisteria:haiku
raindrops from the moon
adorning the old oak tree
violet dreams weeping
I wait for this beauty to bloom each spring and as the years grow, she becomes more and more breathtaking. Wisteria, with its striking scents of honey and vanilla (at least those are the notes I pick up), symbolizes new life, love, sensuality and expanding consciousness.
For more of my flora photography you can visit my gallery here.
-just breathe-
blank slate: NaPoWriMo
the stages, the ages of her wild
where blooms now carelessly blow
across this blank slate, where her childhood began where it took root to grow
where barefoot runners got tangled up in bee parades
and crepe myrtle breezes stole the show
giggling sprites in the night carrying dreams, in softest blushed glow
where farmlands had peas to be shucked
and corn stalks reached for the sky
running through the rows, chasing birds knowing she too could fly
the stages, the ages of her wild
where blooms now carelessly blow
across this blank slate, where her childhood began where it took root to grow
now gone, now quiet, stolen by careless flames
she goes back to listen, to quietly reminisce
to ghosts of a childhood, those small moments of bliss
For NaPoWriMo month where the prompt given was to create a poem with a specific place in mind, incorporating concrete details like street names, distances, types of flowers, trees etc.
I chose my childhood home that was taken by a fire. The image i captured is how the empty lot stands today. Thank you for visiting and reading and for more of my photography you can visit my gallery here.
