Through the lens

We see our lives moving,
rippled like meager waves
changing with the tides
and seen through what lies before us,
through the lens of our experience.
Skeletal branches framing our minds
as we see the colors of our perceptions change
and we welcome the solitude of here,
where the sun sits low in the cradle
rocking gently to sleep,
we whisper wishes for another day to live fully,
to master our moments completely in peace
and to watch a thousand stars peer down at us
as we carry on just like everyday.
The value of a memory
so rich and fluid
as we ride the crest of those times
unaware of the dangers,
just being small children
doing what it is we do best
and we build our castles
which wash away long after we’ve gone home
but we will remember when we grow old and grey
those special moments,
the endless days beneath a summer sun
as fall draws us in to her autumn embrace
we hunker in and smile
longing for those simpler days
remembering the colors of that one setting sun
as we close our eyes
and in the depths of dreams,
slip quietly away.

Golden

Between the silence of a waking dawn

thoughts wrestle their way from sleep softened places

the golden place where dreams leave off

and life begins anew.

Gentle rays find weary eyes that search

the distance for an answer

created so very long ago

the when’s and whys of yesterday

we set aside in a quiet space

knowing that in this moment

this is all that matters now.

Silver spun images greet a soul needy

for the whisper of an ease into the day

and we stand just being

inhaling each moment that finds us,

living this one created miracle in space

where we reside as a part of

the masterpiece.

Gorgeous image taken by a friend Tracy Stiles

Lyrics to my life #4

“A beautiful bunch o’ ripe banana
Daylight come and me wan’ go home
Hide the deadly black tarantula
Daylight come and me wan’ go home”

Harry Belafonte-

Yeah baby, the harvest is upon us. The Poetry Channel has requested banana bread to be sent….54 bananas people, 54…..Wow…..I see smoothies in the future, and banana splits, and does anyone have a pet monkey? A little too hot for baking Michael….heavy bunch too. Next tree won’t be ready to be harvested for about 2 more months or so….I think I may hate bananas by then….but now Harry is singing in my brain and won’t go away…..

A plentiful bounty indeed. We are blessed.