Doors galore




I race through lines of shadowed trees

marking highway miles

Beams of sun flash inbetween

stains of light on dark

Never slow. Never stop.

Nothing stills the soul

A one-way movement through the day

as still the cancer grows

Nothing soothes the sting of flames

lining every breath

A daily journey–race it seems

through lines of shadowed trees

Another lightning in-between the patient-doctor space-

Data-speak and comfort lines

my very human face

reflecting life as memories

shadows close the day.

Photo by Trevor Cole


shg3_170808-9834ts.jpgEach awakening comes with that moment we rise to a new day.  

As the imaginings of night fade with each breath of morning sun, the liturgy of our daily sabbath begins and our soul celebrates.





Not just frayed but edges pressed

pulled away with time

in pieces laid open.

Broken bloodlines crushed

still reaching for daylight

heart in hand

in love-seasoned life. 


Photography courtesy of Guldman “TheGolden Hour”








img_5348.jpgThere is no imagination even

to find the journey

with lovers, dance and sacrament.

Evening shadows of vessels block the shore, the portals.

No tides, no swell. No circles of sun and moon.

Just flatland -well calculated, illustrated, dramatized and over spoken.

The daily grind , the inland

of forgotten life and being.



Image with gratitude via “Capturing The Imagination”



To know



To know the beat of waves in rhythm 

stripping, striking stone to sand 

gasping breath and fear together

pushed and pulled in chords of love.








alexander-yakovlev-dance-photography-3.jpgstartled wakened in a scream

threatened breath

strangled dream

yet i lay me down again

a soul to keep

from terror ends

finding morning’s choir of love

hymns of peace

with eyes of God.

photography alexander yakovlev