Lines

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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

Strandings…

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” WordPress.com

 

Catching Light

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She knew beauty from inside out

flaming life with gentle sparks

When death like cancer found her heart

beauty breathless cried for help.

She died too early for spring’s warmth 

beneath the surface broken, hurt

with hopeful lilies by her side

and dreams of color catching light.

 

-For Janice.

Lock the door on your way out….

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I always remember my dreams. They reset and reframe the truth lying just underneath my daily life and struggles.

In anticipation of 2017, my sleep brought the terror of a whirlwind. Being swept away by the forces of nature, I woke distressed to say the least. This unsettled mood lasted through the last day of 2016.

I woke this am, however, on a journey abroad in the company of family and strangers . I was advising others on how to pack but also reorganizing my own bag.

Perhaps I am ready to move on.

Lock the door on your way out.

Looking Out

img_1174-2.jpgLooking out with weathered views I find there is much seen from places away from where I stand

The other window,  past the trees where the wind blows from the north is something else

     if I close my eyes and listen closely – I shiver and know.

I am blind though to the color of the eastern view from my western space

Looking out with simple delight– only with framed views I fear.

Photography via Julieallyn wordpress.com