Essay – In That Moment

Imagine what life would be from this moment forward if we moved away from the chatter and negativity our mind is swimming within and realize we are born from the stars, that all life on this planet is born from the same material and roots, and that we each have a purpose.

Imagine what tomorrow would bring if in the moment now we changed our thoughts, our preconceived notions, our anger, our fear, our angst.

Our life would change instantly in that moment. And so too those immediately around us, and within our sphere of influence. And tomorrow as we venture out and interact with others the momentum continues as our approach and voice has become calmer and we have gained a deeper understanding as we are all born from the stars.

In that moment, we move to the other path and it will not be easy, and it will take time. The experiences, habits, and thoughts that pushed us here and now, must be removed from the mind, held in the light of sun and moon, and reexamined. With honesty we take a close look at ourselves and choose what to keep and what to discard, making room for the new pieces of us that we vow to take back into the world.

This process, a self-reflection fracturing, allows the fragments to realign and grants us the opportunity rebuild our self into the being we want to be, into the being shedding burdens and making the best of the time we have left. Setting the stage for a return and a rebirth carrying with us the experiences bathed in a new mindset, a new view of the world, opening the door to ascend from the empty fields and onto the next level.

Poem – Beneath the Surface, On the Edge

A follow-up to a previous post – Beneath the Surface

What lies beneath the surface,
the playground of ancient times,
lands ruled by survival,
raw and primal,
we forever live on some edge
with a defensive posture
ready to protect at all costs.

That slippery edge of snow and ice
straddling deep valleys,
like the string holding a life together,
a tether anchoring to some reality.

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Poem – Transformation

I watch the sun rise from
distant cold moving water.

White-capped waves emerge from the horizon
and over time they will arrive at my feet

standing on the rock strewn shoreline
covered in clear ice.

I imagine staying here through the passing months
when the deep winter takes hold of this

land and my body becomes one with the
water and the earth and from this

connection I am transformed back to
my birth state when I emerged from the horizon.

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Poem – Birth

In the beginning we come into this space
as innocent beings fumbling around
the empty fields stretching forever.

We stare in wonder and with amazement
as to the endless possibilities
and the control we have of our life.

Then something changes and the field
begins to fill with objects and obstacles
and where there was no path, forks in the road.

How we navigate this field and
how far reaching our sphere of influence
determines the lanterns brightness when we return.

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Copyright (c) 2014-2016 Twisted Root Photography

Where the Path Leads

We encounter paths and options at every turn and we are stopped by fear and indecision.

The ability to choose a direction and move forward and not look back is a gift.

But when we stand at the crossroad with multiple unknown horizons our life stops and becomes stagnant and we become lost.

Steeped in the questions and scenarios constantly being played in the mind we lose our place and fall off the path we worked so hard to create and follow.

We may not realize until years later what impact a choice made and the path it led down.

There is great power in having the choice and taking control of this life and we will realize that the path we tread through the valley of death and to the mountain top is the definition of life and with our choice it is what we desire to become.

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Dogs of Summer #1

Summer is not quite here, but that does not deter the sun, warmth, and life within the forest. The well-worn path lined with decades of growth, birth, and death is never lonely, is always filled with the voice of the forest. With a gentle touch and respect we spend our time free of the city, free of industry. We ditch thinking and revert to instincts and run free.

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Dog’s Path

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Sisters Taking a Break

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A Quiet Home

 

Poem – Extremes of Death

The open field is not empty
as the ground is littered with
remains of the day
remains of the fallen.

Boulders serve as markers
as crude tombstones and
in some cases a reminder
of brutality and cruelty.

We stumbled across fresh
bones and the skull of a deer
carelessly left and scattered
the remains complete and disconnected.

What drives behavior
to extremes of death?

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