Origins

img_0044-e1563626413874.jpgOnly so many heartbeats said a man-

trusting scarcity somehow to direct a life.

But daughters

hold treasured seeds of grandma’s eyes and DNA

inside their wombs not yet full

and they dance.

Winning

silhouette-into-the-sun-DSC_0377.jpgDreams and hopes light the path for tomorrow,

not rushing what can be done to win every now.

Time is never managed

but lived in random synchrony within a moment’s notice. 

Let Light

and Breath

and Love

find my soul ready.

 

photography thanks to Charis Psallo @wordpress

 

Gasp

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the wounding is the same

self inflicted in moments perceived through lenses lost in time

birthing shame

eternal scenes rehearsed to protect a shattered soul from love scorned

beholding fear

so taught by mothers and mother’s mothers until each is carried

beyond this

gasping

 

Image courtesy of “Franziska/ Whataboutawaterbottle”

Hug

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The mountains hug forgotten ones

Souls known in gestures centuries old.

Wonderfully wild and high enough

where clouds can wet their tears and soften edges

All in breathless upward climb in rhythm find

a peaceful soul

and a memory, union sweet.

Then falling down in gasps of fear darker turns and twists

My footing gone

the mountain moves

in outward reach

– embrace.

Pressured

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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” wordpress.com

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

Prayer

 

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