This gallery contains 12 photos.
Originally posted on verseherder:
People can be strangers. Even the ones we know and love. They can be empty in places that we aren’t, which can lead to miscommunication. False expectations and heartbreaks. Birds make for much more reliable companions. It doesn’t matter that their calls are lost in translation to our ears. We can still understand and…
Sliding compartments
hide hanging closet colors
rainbow choices
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whatever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
When family gathers we disappear.
Your little hand guides me away.
Favorite stories, mixed with
salad bites and crunchy sandwiches,
are shared at the table we
leave behind.
Bug eyed fish gulp surface treats
bubbling past us on our way to
climb blue mountains.
Today the story of you and I
is written on the highest peak,
and carved amongst jewels in
a golden crown drawn in the sand.
Rumbling tummy and thirsty lips
dive us back to our tribe.
Chewing and chatting relatives
toss us a drink and a few
morsels.
Hand in hand,
we walk away again, to explore
enchanted lands on the other
side of the blue mountains.
(internet photo)
Little monkey limbs
grasp and hold and climb.
Blue plastic mountains
rise over colorful, recycled
rubber land.
Yellow, green and orange footsteps
sink and rise, spongy elastic
imprints rebound.
Mommas wear flowered tops.
Some have brought books
to the indoor babysitter.
Hands hold Styrofoam cups,
sip drinks from sidelines.
Droopy eyed adults dart in and out
of the romp fest.
Tsks and clucks can be heard
as playtime manners
are taught.
(personal photo)
Mount Yamnuska
stony cliff face scramble
allows us to pass
Black crow swoops
noisy caw across our path
comic relief flight
Gravel scree slope
descends below flat rock wall face
laughs rise as boots glide
(photo credit: Bates – littlehales)
Stony shore boasts
natural driftwood sculptures
surf stalls red buoy
(internet photo)
“When the only tool you own is a hammer, every problem begins to resemble a nail .”
– Abraham Maslow
Luminous stars wait
clouds obscure arriving moon
midnight rendezvous
(imagechef.com)
I am waiting for the perfect moment
to make my move and call.
I am waiting for my calendar to clear
to be able to sit for awhile.
I am waiting until I know
that we won’t be interrupted,
I don’t want my message to be
misinterpreted or corrupted.
As I wait for the perfect moment
I know the years are passing
but my courage is also growing,
expanding and amassing.
And now here I lie
on my deathbed ready to expire…
I never found the perfect moment
to which I had aspired.
ScribbleDartsfromtheHeart 