being amazing

from a special place

Cool in the bathed waters of tranquility, I found my voice and I am in love with thee. Eternal memory, wandering blissfully on intentions directed without aggression on a path taken with little less than a suggestion. Did I mention, that geocentric shapes line the souls of the imagined, beings from a place where there is reserved a place seated. Take flight with gold wings that hold then let go to a place that is foretold. In the memories of children, grandparents its fleeting like the beating hearts of wings in minds that line the hopes of dreams and I burst at the seams with the laughter of the potential and the frozen moment that is passed writing this thoughts at last one more time in this space where they will take place in a new mind once again who reads the meaning the runs parallel to the space in between the lines. Discovering once more the more you store the story in your core the more and more the story that you hold stores.
(me)

life is a poetic dream

I apologize for my absence.  It has been a busy few days.  My cousin Margaret  came here from Kentucky and our families combined for a camp trip.

I wrote a poem today.
As it brushes wistfully with deliberate chance through the follicles of the trees, the living air finds a brief opportunity to dance in my lungs and my blood sings and my feet leap.


That's what happens when I forget my head-phones on the way to work.  My mind wanders, I check FB one or twice, and seeing no inspiring words, I add my own.     That's not entirely true.  I checked it about three times looking for inspriration, and after the third time, my mother-n-law, Mary posted this;

THE PEACE OF WILD THINGS

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
— Wendell Berry

In which I responded;  
A symphonic arrangement of words that paints as a quilt the serene restlessness of a radiant spirit.