eyes reflect the shades
of every journey taken
under the same moon
-just breathe-
Category: Poems
hereafter
i know not the lengths of this journey as time now ticks ghostly so,
unbeknownst to me,
it coils it’s precious and vile tocks within the ruptures of my brokenness
my tumultuous cries rise
as i dance in this mirage of a storm
watch me glare into nothing
as the ticks and the tocks busy themselves narrating my life before me
in this my nirvana i tread
to bleed, to smile, to weep, to laugh, to burn
coming out of the fog
to find my breath again
I know this may seem like a dark piece, however, when I wrote this it was from the inspiration that fell upon me at the site of this breathtaking piece of funerary art that rests upon the grounds of Rock Creek Cemetery in Washington DC (just across the street from the nationally known Arlington Cemetery).
Upon returning home and reading the story of its creation, I knew I had to write about her. I’m including a link to its creation below. The piece of artwork itself is titled The Mystery of the Hereafter, although over the years it has been given the name of “grief” by those admiring its craftsmanship and perceived meaning.
Upon reading its history, I did find myself on the journey that one takes through grief, to that hereafter. It is different for us all, yet it is all very much the same (which lends to the male/female fusion the artist depicts with this piece) It hasn’t a map, it hasn’t a clock, nor does it have a definitive destination. We struggle, we grieve, all of us. Yet we survive. Often, we come out on the other side with a knowing, a new sense of strength, of purpose, of courage. Grief, that delicate five letter word, has the power of change, of acceptance, of growth.
Without ruining the story behind its creation for you, the romantic in me very much came alive as well. A breathtaking moment and an honor to be able to tip-toe into the life of two souls now since departed.
Thank you for taking a moment to read this piece. If you find a fondness for funerary art as I do, you can find more of my images in my gallery here.
images of “Grief” taken from Rock Creek Cemetery in Washington DC. Sculpture created by Augustus Saint-Gaudens and listed on National Register of Historic Places. To read more about its elusive history read on…
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adams_Memorial_(Saint-Gaudens)
*featured image taken on a foggy morning walking the grounds of Belle Grove Plantation, birthplace of President James Madison.
-just breathe-
beneath the tree
this soul hums
beneath the tree
beneath the tree that made me see
see this me beneath the tree
where my soul hums
where it is free
where it is meant to be
beneath the tree
-just breathe-
these roots
deep into the hollow
in the moss of free
where the river parts
and the roots swell
beneath of me
til the day is dawn
and the night finds
the blackbird’s call
i shall be
i shall simply
be
This piece was inspired by the lyrics of Maria Brink in her song Roots. Because my love of music is as much like my love of words, completely bleeding outside of the lines of any standard, i enjoy all styles. This is a favorite song that illustrates in my own way my love of nature, of growth and of that forever roaring word, resilience. I hope you give it a listen. Thanks for visiting and reading.
-just breathe-
carefree
daylight
slowly
sips
the
shadows
and
sparks
her
carefree
blooms
this little precious captured my eye on a recent hike and I loved the way it refused to conform to “proper growing standards”. I liken it to being in love with both the sun and the moon in its sideways stature. For more of my flora photography you can visit my gallery here.
-just breathe-
curves: haiku
she’s not about themes
she lives outside of the curves
where the colors bleed
-just breathe-
yesteryear
take me back to magnolias lounging
on wrought iron porches
to oil lit lanterns and cobblestone streets
to handwritten love and dance cards
filled with but one name
Magnolias and wrought iron shall always take me to the cobblestone streets of Savannah in Georgia or the Garden District in New Orleans, two places I’ve visited that I instantly fell in love with. These images however came from neither but offer a perfect example at how an image or a smell can coax a memory to the surface. For more of my photography you can visit my gallery here.
-just breathe-
