If I were a bird, I'd tweet my song: an urgent symphony. and, you are the only one there to hear its music. it plays for you alone. the subtle beauty of nature within bounds of debris of the city must not be missed but listened to. I would fly here and there all day… Continue reading Urgent Symphony
The beauty of the sunset is knowing there will be a new dawn a raindrop will look like a gem running down a flower's stem chirping birds and the sea so deep and the sky so high reveals there is something in the air that keeps each there and so it is inherent within everything… Continue reading The Beauty of the Sunset
Autumn leaves fall slowly like spinning teacups a colorful collusion of brown, green and yellow coffee swirls smelling of sweet burnt cinnamon infusion sunlight pierces through sparkling water streams in the heart of the forest like a white spear beauty never fades there it never dulls in the scope of eternity it doesn't matter whether… Continue reading Eyes of the beholder
what secret force resides within the bounds of nature besides that which we all can see? there is an unseen force for healing a certain invisible vibration when in the midst of its indisputable beauty I rediscover me, my own worth, I am comforted in a warm blanket of peace all within the simplicity of… Continue reading Within the bounds of nature
the vacation begins with or without me for today I am not going to go anywhere but where I am right now I will stay I will be as the shadow there will be no substance left to me I will be absorbed silence calmness gentle breeze letting go of wanting I want not today… Continue reading The temple door
Good morning my dear sun. I feel your warmth on my face. out from the darkest darkness you sprung forth as our savior and made another day illuminating mustard yellow green fields and golden poppies that make our eyes happier and our hearts kinder.
Origami my beautiful unfolding your life into papered shapes and forms you come alive while I nap flying around my head in my room it is you who are wise it is me who learns from your silent flight.
Those desperate eyes still see the beautiful but when you see them you know they hold their own terror yet you must let them be until their own sequestration is finalized
We broken spirits in final communion with the natural world in all its various forms and visibility speak to it's cold-hearted ways sun-baked persecution heartless heart it is you this great world of ours honoring no one for you have no feeling for no man as we drown in your wide open reckless foamy tall… Continue reading Communion