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Poem – Flowers
In the end, when this life becomes the next, we are left behind as one flower in the open fields becoming 10-thousand blooming and radiant beings.
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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…
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Poem – Guided By Wolves
In the last dream of this life I watched the white wolf walk away. In the first dream of the next life I watched the black wolf emerge from still water. With my first step across the empty field I knew I was granted another life, more time complemented with the experiences and another chance…
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Poem – Across the Field
Across the field I see the same material we are made of born of the stars out there.
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Poem – Each Day
As my years have passed more slowly now that I stop sometimes to catch a deep breath and really inhale the rising scent of pine, I see that each day is a gift and the time in my past cannot be changed, and the future is always shrouded in mystery, and I can only live…
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Jackson Pollock, Life Magazine
I just received an original copy of Life Magazine from August 8th, 1949 featuring Jackson Pollock in the article “Is he the greatest living painter in the United States?” Happy days!
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Poem – What Becomes
(1) Long ago that path became an object in the mirror fading into the dust of the present experiences. I look back with nostalgia at moments I have built and pieced together from the scenes I have witnessed, the people met and the forgotten glorified sense of purpose. (2) What becomes of the road after…
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Poem – Purpose
I stand on the rocky shore beneath old cedar arched toward the sky and I lose the layers I have delicately built. This scene never tires, never gets old. The sun rising from the calm water reflecting the morning mist. In moments of solitude when the circling raven further deepens my roots I find my…
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Poem – The path
The road, the path never ends. We only change the direction with a distant thought of a destination, of a purpose, that changes before we arrive.
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Poem – Accept What is Given
I awoke whole with an empty mind. I left the front door into the morning air filled with mist and raven calls from treetops surrounding the small pond. I was along and not alone and took comfort in murky sun giving away purple light.