find your place, a nook, an escape, if even for a moment…

find your place, a nook, an escape, if even for a moment…

Photo by James Wheeler on Pexels.com

on calming waters
the ripples freeze-frame slide and hypnotize
a gull, on a rock, outcrop
two swans act as ostriches of the loch
the simplicity; the serenity;
moves me, sways me, fades me
on calming waters
distorted reflections like impressionist paintings
another world lies, there a-waiting,
to dive in and cleanse my soul,
shed my common clothes-
for a-while,
the hands of the mother, curved earth basin
cupped vessel filled with the universal
for water is life revealed in a mirror
from which we walked, from which we waked
from which we came; yes
on calming waters
a goose and child forage grass-ed edge
unaware of politics or the foibles of men
for this sense ties not to clocks
but perhaps to ancient sun dials,
sweeping ripples, eyes to follow
one by one, out to the horizons
gone, like my words- fallen to the shore
how many have whispered, the worship here before
and let their depths be drowned
for spirit rise, to be cleansed
for the return, to the dominion of men.

only to fall back, into the mud brick laying
the paving, straw and mud, and the modern spoke turning
the drudgery of construct- a yoke
until again
those calming waters call
until then, until that baptismal pause
shall bring renewal, from mother’s hand

notes… so I wrote this in the parking lot of a church, it was raining so I didn’t get out of the car, but this is my spot, right on the franklin lakes reservoir, it is my spring, my fountain, a spot I can go to and escape the every day right under the thumb of the every day, so I recommend you find one… or better two… or nine, sanctuary to let nature drain the stain of normal life off your pelt… it helps…

in a moment’s glance, there is grace.

in a moment’s glance, there is grace.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

kiss of a sunset
to quiet the gears that grind
I shall remember

behind a grand tree
light slides in the afternoon
I take a deep breath

kiss of a sunset
absorbs all my creation
palms cleansed by water

and shall I count now
each of these unto my lips
for never lasting

notes… OK… sometimes I snuggle up to haiku… basho is awesome I must admit, I am usually mr. freeform but sometimes something triggers that itch of the japanese verse variety… work was dragging… I could feel it drowning me (my fault), looked out the window, the sun was setting (early this time of year) right behind a big old tree and some buildings, and it gave me pause… and a reprieve, silver linings indeed…

pond meditation… ~~{o]~~

pond meditation… ~~{o]~~

I wish I might be, a simple painted turtle, sitting on a rock, in a glacial lake, the telegraphed waves just under my eyes, on occasion breaking their horizon causing an instinctual slow graceful wink motion like window shades rising, stoic, as the sun, as the stars, as the moon, pass on by above in an arc, not aware of time, as this procession prances on above, not aware of, the course of, meteor showers, comets, planets, or actual counted hours, just a personal picked patch of rock, jutting just slightly above the water, a vantage point, a peak, an observation deck, in the one perfect spot, I have found for now, by luck or circumstance or guile, to stretch my neck out just so, above the subtle tide, taking in air as needed, never more, never less, balanced breathing, watching the lights grow and stretch out over time, to the heavens and down into the water beneath in depth, reflections, stoic, timeless, a simple painted turtle, on my rock, witness, beneath the heavens, the earth tethered below in water, without a judgement in sight, I wish I might be at such peace, for a time. (exhale)

there is a basking turtle in this video…

Happiness is… .>.

Happiness is… .>.

Photo by Aleks Marinkovic on Pexels.com

walking the dog up the street tonight, sure, colder than I might like (she could care less, tallying tail wags as yes votes that is), the leaves make the landscape strange and interesting, the ground is all shades and shapes, mostly maple outlines (what is this, canada, eh?), lawn and sidewalk are alike, just one canvas laid out, soon this will just be leaf litter, but now? a world of cut out paper stars that have fallen to the ground, the dog’s paws create audible pitter patter on them due to the moisture left from the days weather, and there are puddles, black lakes, hard to see by the intermittent street lamps, like I am playing pitfall back in the day, I avoid most but, PLUNK, not all, as I feel the cold water sink slowly into my walking shoes I feel some angst, I laugh to myself for making such a big deal over it for a second there, ‘just some minor unpleasantness ya dope, get over it’, maybe I should be more like the dog, taking this all in stride, the temp is just cold enough to warrant a sweat shirt, one of those heavy hoodies you break out when you don’t want the formality of a jacket (and damn those broken in sweats are like a cozy familiar blanket), the cold has chased everyone away, so, just me, the dog, the leaves and the occasional car driving past, but mostly what I notice is the crisp air, so enjoyable to inhale, refreshing like a splash to the lungs, near intoxicating, of course I can not linger to long, someone, ahem, dog, is pulling on the leash in anticipation, there is always another patch to sniff, after all, there is a campaign sign on that lawn at the top of the street, good placement I think, and I remember the world feels like it wants to explode in a couple of days, I feel the proto-anxiety seeping in, but out here, just me and the dog, things seem like they will be alright. unplug. unplug.

random prayer…

random prayer…

on occasion little things like this pop in my head, today, @ work for example, which is strange, usually work is not the place I am musing, must be a friday thing…. anyway, without further pause…

Photo by enfantnocta on Pexels.com

A prayer to absorb
from those who came before
might I turn to the wind
and hear your voices
bathe in your wisdom
if only for a moment
if only a small slice of the vast
share with me your vision
so I might not repeat the past

for the birds…

for the birds…

photo of flying seagulls on beach
Photo by NastyaSensei on Pexels.com

just driving, picked up korean for lunch, warm soup on a cold day, spicy hot soup really fits the bill, even if the bulgogi is quite tempting (and damn they know how to make fries), but anyway, on my way back to the office, the sun is kind of obscured, just a diffused globe hanging there lost against the wash of gray, I see some birds off in the distance, as I am sitting at a light, wondering why the guy in the tesla a) does not pull up all the way b) is way too close to my lane for my liking, but back to the sky, birds, we just accept they are as they are, I wish to imagine a time when I didn’t know them, or perhaps if I was blind and this is the first time I laid eyes on them, these little darting black triangles dashing all over the sky just far enough out where they are more like outlines, some gliding majestically as if by magic or string, forgetting my knowledge of thermodynamics, I have a hard time trying to imagine, or grasp, what I might think these little devils were without the context of the knowledge that traps me, we watch dragons and zombies on screens but here, in the sky are creatures just as unlikely, just familiar, just known, so we forget the experience, the first time, I try to think back, when did I first see or recognize birds, I would have to say my earliest memories, which do not even seem like mine anymore as they age and fade like old photographs in a box tucked in the corner of my closet somewhere, my earliest time had to be the shore, the beach, the memories seem like a legend now or a bedtime story I am telling myself, I feel out of my body, looking at myself in the past, molding wet sand with art deco neon color plastic buckets, the blazing sun turning my blonde locks near white and making my neck resemble a lobster cooked with freckles, looking up, watching the seagulls hover, standing still in the wind almost like my kite, the pipers playing tag with the surf, back and forth, scampering toward them with my child legs, they do not know I mean no harm but they stay just out of length, probably for the best, but I love to watch them pace back and forth, to this day, the constant tide, the ride, back at my office I arrive, trying to retain a child’s eye, trying to remember what it was like… those first times, for every piece of worldly fabric we may take for granted…

a little simple (poem)…

a little simple (poem)…

black wooden louver door window
Photo by Leah on Pexels.com

“tired
jaded by the sun
must recall
the rush of life
in all forms
and regain
the wonder
the miracle
forward”

notes… just something that struck me, life has a routine to it that we get used to, but we shouldn’t forget how amazing it is that we are actually here, at this moment, I try to hold on to that, that amazing fact…

Thoughts, from my porch, yeah, that porch, the same old one, but yet…

Thoughts, from my porch, yeah, that porch, the same old one, but yet…

closeup photo of seashore during golden hour
Photo by Frans Van Heerden on Pexels.com

the clouds are like a perfectly aligned photograph of a still fire bloom set upon the dazzling supreme aqua of a pristine tropical ocean, maybe a cliche, maybe not, I’ll take it any day of the week, and three times today or tonight as the sun is slipping under the horizon, even though this is really just the earth’s rotation, such a large but understood concept, but do we stand here and admire that fact? or feel the spin, feel the ground whipping around at dizzying speeds, all with our terra firma feet planted well on this ground, the dirt, the thin skin layer of the molten apple we call earth, a seething ocean of fire just a few miles, under where we feel so safe, a thin layer of air all that separates us from space, how precarious we are, but do we perceive it, we worry more about the local buzzing about, unaware of some outer calamity that could end our little love affair with ourselves, the action of every breath of every being, an orchestra of the absurd chances of just being, being here, writing this, or reading these words, I am truly amazed in moments like this, I think nature is sneaky, or wise, or both quite combined, to show us glimpses, here and there, drops of reminders, breath taking visions, thundering falls, tiny bugs of imaginable stripe and scope, unimaginable combinations of dna in humans alone, the colors, of eyes, of hair, heights, and smiles, the buffet of laughter shared across global realms, all revealed in an evening sky, the signs are all there, they describe locations, the mile markers, more subtle than neon flashing colors but no less informative, all around, so train the mind, use your eyes, take in that precious breath, hold a loved one for just a moment to feel that warmth, that is the miracle of life, this is bounty, this is our corner of the universe, the only one we can possibly know but we are here in the face of impossibility, that rare bloom of existence, for a short while, stars have formed your very core, for once twilight is now your veins, once heavenly bodies are your precious thoughts, take a moment, absorb the world’s wonder, feel the universe in your bones as we are one, we all come from the most basic of elements, a recipe of those touched by a spark, and here you are.

Thoughts from the porch (post mini vacation edition)…

Thoughts from the porch (post mini vacation edition)…

nature sky clouds blue
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

(meant to post this last night, my bad)

I have been blogging (writing) about ‘unremarkable days’, how there is something to be found in them regardless of how ordinary they may seem, and surely those days outnumber the rest by a large margin, but today was one of those other days, the one where you can remove the “un” entirely, picture book clouds on perfect hand-picked blue print, the sun just quite hot enough as you teeter on the brink of sweat but the damn never breaks, and again, the clouds, not a one with ill intent or a portent to rain (not even a hint), just fluffy white dreams that steal your imagination with their shapes, the kind of day where just looking at the sky makes you smile and drift… I was even mired in hours of Sunday-to-home traffic from the shore, but it felt different, it felt OK and perhaps better, this is the type of day, the type of day that releases you from your daily lease, relief from the daily grind, your personal slate is wiped clean and you can just… be, in the moment, this moment, like experiencing a long slow deep breath from sunrise to sunset…
Is this because I took a couple of days off to commune with nature? sure, could be, I believe in re-charging your batteries, I should just learn to take my advice more often… there is this strange exhaustion you feel when you vacation right, you aren’t quite tired or quite refreshed, but are, in both respects, you feel like you can take on the world or not have a care in it, a false premise of course, but I’ll take it in these moments, again, one of those things I wish I could bottle, or prescribe to myself and the world to ingest on a daily basis, but I suppose if it was all that easy, everything would be that easy, so I say to you (and me, by extension, as this is my voice here) go find ‘it’, try to find that thing that at once flushes your system out from the daily weight, sheds the chains, let’s you take flight, find out that which both exhausts you and in the same action re-energizes you, for this life, that is where I am at tonight, my dog, she does not seem impressed… but I can bribe her with peanut butter, so her vote doesn’t count…


part of my Porch series (click if you want to read more! it’s been over a year now!!), and all likes, comments, and such… are all appreciated, I know you probably have better things to do than read this, thanks for taking the time…

all in the details…

all in the details…

photo of blue sky
Photo by Elia Clerici on Pexels.com

“unremarkable sky
guardian
your exquisiteness is my breath
a time capsule
from within I will pass all my own
the thin blue horizon which protects
this very breath
held tightly
against this earth
by means we understand
by eons we can not comprehend”

notessemi related to my last post, kind of a reminder that wonder is all around us (and I don’t just mean the bread), I wrote this in my head on the way to work in the car, which is annoying, I really get anxiety trying to recite lines back to myself and hope I remember them when I get to the office (if traffic is not murder I can not scribble things down at 75 mph you know), and I am just not good at dictating to my phone, it just.. I don’t know, the pen is my friend and is the one I take to the dance…

Suggested music: Humanmeshdance – Infinity