pines

pines

whilst berries bathe in the snow

beneath the pines we reside

furling our sails to the shores of our distant chateau

crackling hearth arching its call to the chill of night’s crystalline show

buttons undone to a waiting solstice glow

hints of spice, a warming invitation from the blisters of the day

coat lips as they explore

the intoxication of a night, dancing through the grey

Nine Inch Nails-Together

For more of my photography you can visit my gallery here

just breathe

fever: a haiku

fever: a haiku

a stirring fever

embraced within the secrets

of the weeping tree

Here on the coast we are among the last to see the changing colors that our gentle giants bestow upon us. The following images I captured at a favorite park and tree arboretum, Maymont Park. For more of my photography you can visit my gallery here

fog

fog

with no harness to my soul

screams ride the fog

in weightless

freefall

I love this time of year when the foliage explodes into an artist’s wonderland. It is no wonder fall has eternally become a season of inspiration for poets and artists alike. Trying my best to get out as much as I can to capture nature’s metamorphosis. For more of my photography you can view my gallery here

the feathers of my soul: photography

the feathers of my soul: photography

swells of birch call to the sea

in a frost of life

flowing through me

from sea to summit

the waves call to me,

a midsummer song of tranquility

coax these swells of wander in me,

teach them to flow unrelentingly

you rewild this tame in me

how it breaks and runs

how it soars and peaks

arching to your sun

I recently acquired a wide angle lens for my Canon and decided I wanted to try my hand at capturing waterfalls along our Blue Ridge Mountains and within the George Washington National Forest. With a great deal of patience and a proper tripod I walked away feeling accomplished this day. I tried my best to capture the serene beauty and tranquility that overcomes one in the presence of a waterfall, the feathers of my soul as I lovingly call them. For more of my photography you can visit my gallery here

train rides

train rides

hitchhiking to these, my forgotten spaces

thumbs up to the clouds waiting for the train to catch that wind

the bell tolls silently so to those who listen

to those with no fear of letting go

i cradle my bag, my makeshift courage kit

to wander now needlessly to where the leaves blow, where they seem i shall fit

always the backseat traveler i still shan’t take the helm

for it not my eyes that lead, but my heart that swells

i follow where it takes me, perhaps to dead end roads

pulling out my kit with compass to direct me as best it knows

ye of little faith, the reclusive voice no more

for those journeys once forgotten i now ready the score

days absent of sunlight, of curtains drawn

now places me on this train, piercing through dusty windows all those what ifs now gone

IrisU2

I photographed this image along the Blue Ridge Parkway, Milepost 34. I categorized it within my abandoned photography as what you see here is the remnants of an old logging railroad. Although it is abandoned it is not forgotten and is visited quite frequently among hikers and travelers alike and offers a serene, picturesque moment to step back in time. Thank you for reading. For more of my nature and abandoned photography please visit my gallery here.

just breathe

harbour

harbour

drifting in this cosmic womb of rain

to you, this harbour beneath the shore

my mind resigning its weight, a bare jewel afloat,

to kelp fields, dense and fragments dark,

guiding in this underwater dance floor

traversing through your canopies wild

seasons unfold before my eyes

gardens spring blooms from a winter’s release

while the sequoias of the sea lend me their lean, serenely keen to the sun drenched skies

cerulean paves these streets of peace

as buckets of wings residing beneath the sails of tide

to antiquities void of a pirate’s lore

filling my lungs along this cathartic ride

straying further and further from the salty fits that marry my skin ashore

i fall deeper and deeper into this estuary

where a love evolves, where my heart explores

slipping into frocks left behind of mermaids best

the ballroom awaits as i untether my weathered steps

to which it replies, please, be my guest

swimming anext urchins as they needfully feed

watching otters safely sleep between the holdfast trees

i am but a visitor but a resident akin

to this underwater sanctuary that wishes me au revoir

after welcoming me with ease

This piece was inspired from watching the documentary, My Octopus Teacher featuring the kelp forests of South Africa. Filmmaker and photographer, Craig Foster begins a year long journey studying and ultimately befriending an octopus living within the kelp forest. It is beautiful and heartfelt as well as an educational piece that I would recommend giving a watch.

In writing this I imagined and truly listened to the testimony of Foster of just how magical skin diving and traversing through this underwater garden becomes to the soul. Daily stresses seem to become weightless, as trees, anchored and wise, become our guides.

The images shared within this piece are that of Foster captured during his journey within the forests in South Africa.

Kelp forests, these beautiful underwater oasis’s, are endangered, mostly so by threats from fisheries, marine pollution, invasive species and climate change. If you’d like to learn more about the ambassadors of the sea check out Sea Change Project. The group, of which Foster is a member of, is striving to educate and protect the ecosystem that is a sanctuary and home to many marine animals and wildlife.

Thank you for reading.

Harbour-Sohn

just breathe

haunted

haunted

 

there is this haunting in me

chasing the grain of rhapsody

in midnight swells of ardor

beseeching to the stars to lay hold of my shadow

longing for a taste of your burn again

 

there is this haunting in me

waning with the young moon

beneath a wild vermouth,

spilt from uninspired lips

in crescent fall

longing to breathe you in again

 

there is this haunting in me

floating in the velvet dust of night

my spirit aloft far longer than odysseus

with wings a flutter, unrelenting

wistful for the fertile kiss of earth

longing to be whole in you again

 

there is this haunting in me

among days of translucent gravity

weighted to this diaphanous storm

thundering in a ghostly compass

yet a voice remains

echoing there

high above the ancients dressed in their robes of green

saturating the roof of a tin heart

just wanting to find my love again

 

 

Lullaby-Enzalla

 

just breathe

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aionion

aionion

the scent that bemoans me of a dying rose

not of death inferring, but of life preserving

through its folds it clutches senses

charting courses through darkened, rusted fences

or atop mountains shedding waterfalls as a love commences

unyielding layers, partaking of endless shades anew

unfurling through time, a slow peruse

all in a smell, as my imagination ensues

Transylvanian Lullaby-Erutan

inspired by the roses my daughter received for her graduation, i captured these images and as the scents enraptured my senses, the thoughts came. how beautiful a dying flower is to me. how even in its seemingly decay, behind the scenes, beneath the folds, life still breathes.

thank you for reading and for more of my flora photography you can view my gallery here.

braids

braids

the fabric of my bones

these places weaving in and through to you

where evergreens whisper, liken their leaves to call

 

in broken trails now enchanted, blushing blooms braiding to my heart

to ravens licking moonlight, in lush romantic song

 

the fabric of my bones

these places weaving in and through to you

keeping you close, keeping you whole

for me to remember, for you to kiss my soul

Blackmill-Gaia

Image by Brian Kirhagis

 

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