This is at the Bellevue Mall.
This is for the Ragtag Daily Prompt: pocket.
This is at the Bellevue Mall.
This is for the Ragtag Daily Prompt: pocket.
Over Thanksgiving I am in Michigan. It snows and the falling snow brings down more leaves. This tree has a circle of fallen leaves around the trunk. It is beautiful.
For my Ragtag Daily Prompt today: change.
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: glum.
I walked in the woods yesterday and it lifts me. I couldn’t be glum there. It was so beautiful.
The Ragtag Daily Prompt today is perpetuity. Trees have a different time sense then we do. They send electrical messages like we do, but they are slower. Still, the tree can change it’s leaves within hours, to taste bad or poison a pest. I wonder if we seem fast and short lived and impatient to them.
Here is my friend Simon Lynge’s Perpetual Now:
This is the final poem in my Falling Angels Dream Poetry series.
Some people say there are
Angels among us
I have faith in birds
I search for a nest
Hummingbird nest
the size of a nut
tiny, lined with spiderwebs
I love the herons too
great blue heron
flying lands in a tree
above me
I look through my mechanical eye
zoom in click click
and there is another
at the tree top
two in a tree
I move around
and there – one drops down
one flies
I am not distracted
a nest
a six foot nest
blessed
I move away gently

I wander back by the tree
gently
in the morning
in the evening
not one
not two
two in this tree
two in that
one in another
as many as five in a tree
six foot wing spans
a rookery of winged beings
angels among us
and why would we think
they would look like us?

black on white
white on black
it doesn’t matter
angels falling
made to fall
at peace with falling
I let myself fall
at peace with falling
and wonder what that means?
death?
no
though there are times I long
for the Beloved
for union with the Beloved
for all in one
and one all
let go
when an angel falls
they are at peace
they are at peace
with falling
people
see black and white
people
see good and evil
people
separate
label
categorize
angels don’t
black on white
or
white on black
it doesn’t matter
there is no separation
we are one
Beloved
One
I can’t do it, Beloved
or no
I don’t know how, Beloved
release old grief, I am told
I am to have the intention daily
to release old grief
it sits in my throat
aching lump, knot, old
I don’t know how old
is it from before birth
I haven’t looked up whether antibodies
to tuberculosis
cross the placenta
attacking
Kell kills
that is one of the antibodies
that can kill a fetus
I have the grief
a tiger by the tail
at first I was afraid
that releasing it would lose
some core part of myself
that the me I have built
is the nacre, a pearl
wrapped around a core of grief
but Beloved
I try to listen
I try so hard to listen
to have faith
why pay for help
without attempting to follow
the ideas
unless they are so clearly wrong
conversation
with myself
the past the woman the girl the child the fetus
let the grief go
gently
Beloved
maybe I am not gentle enough
full speed ahead
maybe I need to cradle the grief more
rock it, comfort it, thank it
grief, you protected me so much
from the patterns in the family
Beloved
maybe I need to thank the grief
before I let it go
9/21/17
Another Falling Angels poem.
I was riding in the car last Monday and took this. We were headed out to hike. It was a pretty wet day but still really really fun.
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: mist.
BLIND WILDERNESS
in front of the garden gate - JezzieG
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Or not, depending on my mood
All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain!
An onion has many layers. So have I!
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Some of the creative paths that escaped from my brain!
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spirituality / art / ethics
Coast-to-coast US bike tour
Generative AI
Climbing, Outdoors, Life!
imperfect pictures
Refugees welcome - FlΓΌchtlinge willkommen I am teaching German to refugees. Ich unterrichte geflΓΌchtete Menschen in der deutschen Sprache. I am writing this blog in English and German because my friends speak English and German. Ich schreibe auf Deutsch und Englisch, weil meine Freunde Deutsch und Englisch sprechen.
En fotoblogg
Books by author Diana Coombes
NEW FLOWERY JOURNEYS
in search of a better us
Personal Blog
Raku pottery, vases, and gifts
π πππππΎπ πΆπππ½π―ππΎππ.πΌππ ππππΎ.
Taking the camera for a walk!!!
From the Existential to the Mundane - From Poetry to Prose
1 Man and His Bloody Dog
Homepage Engaging the World, Hearing the World and speaking for the World.
Anne M Bray's art blog, and then some.
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