Scooping dreams

Different from others

nestled amongst the large and small

from where you came we know not

only that your words give thought

with each time you move into the corners

like smooth motioned gathering

cradled gently in your hold

no sharp edges to be found

in the daydreamers reverie.

Mixed images with a heart of love

you stir the soul bringing from the depths

like the cream of goodness rising to the top,

moving in and around

folding into each memory a pinch of sweetness

to be remembered

like a spoon full of love overflowing

with the shine and sparkle of a new day rich

and we lift you with a smile

tucking you in our hands and hearts

sharing the masterpiece

of a delicate creation

made with joy,

the taste of a treasure

flavored with love.

This began with the act of drying dishes and finding one spoon that we got from somewhere, not matching the rest but large and easy to use for making everything, in this case, dough for my husbands bagels….he does make great bagels and I look forward tomorrow to breakfast….stirred with love ❤ and handcrafted by the master chef of my life ❤

Phantom mirage

We can not always see

that which may be before us

caught in the shadow of a moments that slips

into itself and then into the hour full,

we weave a million thoughts in a heartbeat

like dreams remembered upon waking,

hazy recollections of this and that,

strange sensations of being there yet not

caught in the vortex of a mind so tired

we slip into ourselves like a well worn shoe,

feeling the imprint of where we’ve been

yet sensing where it is we are traveling to,

when we slip into the scene

we become the phantom mirage

poised on the verge of becoming

clearer with each passing smile and word,

understanding more than we can express

as we move through the jungles of this space

we gather our cloak about us,

our wistful shadow that always follows

wrapped around like the softest hug

we take those steps into the mirror of time

and hear the silence of a heartbeat so strong.

Beautiful photo by: Gerry van der Walt

Building blocks

We exist in this space,

a vast expanse of that which is seen

yet strangely what most matters is that

which is never seen,

only imagined.

We come together through words,

song and music and the beauty of arts

bringing change through an idea,

another of the unseen yet still lingering there

somewhere on the space of the edge of reason,

we move forward driven

and not knowing why

we jump into the abyss of the unknown to find

that which we know we cannot touch

until we come before

like bubbling skies of clouds

somewhere within there may be

flashes of light and water waiting

for the right moment

as the winds come together in unison

a perfect moment is reached

and a storm is born to quench

parched souls and soil,

we dance below the indigo sight

becoming one with that which we are

nature and the undeniable self-created

a moment which is here then gone,

unlike any other that has been nor will be,

building blocks of the universe and dreams

collide with abandon

with spirit and everything that is.

“Dreams are the seeds of change. Nothing ever grows without a seed, and nothing ever changes without a dream.”  Debby Boone

What may come

Searching through
histories of ourselves
raw and unedited
with the soundtrack
to die for.
He’s been gone so long
yet still so close
like a hangnail festering
alive like a pain to the soul
reminding
still here
after all.
Damn, to see that face still can
make me feel
and cry as I wonder
where would he be
if he had not given it all
and lost it all
and left us behind
like a faded street sign wondering
which way do we go
now?
As I’m standing here on the ground
skies always waiting in the sidelines
to all fall down,
but to look at you
in reckless moments
always sparks the fire…
the soul calls for change
while the heart says don’t….
some feet under don’t make anything in the mix
‘cept tears for yesterday,
as we wipe them away and wonder
where does the time go…
where will we go when all is said and done,
and though were not so very young
and oh so pretty,
what a pity to dwell in these pages
songs and lyrics
and voices of yesterday
that still haunt from the depths
of disillusion.
And so we dream on,
Beginning with a word we should not
per the rule books
but what do they mean
if nothing at all
in the grand scheme of things,
for love is what I say,
and by my side
in rooms of faces
we will be ourselves,
clouded images of a history
a before you and me
a collage
of a dream through images
perpetually and always
meant to be.

Watching old INSX videos and reliving my younger years….poor Michael Hutchensce and songs that were a integral part of my consciousness…..Don’t Change, To Look at you, etc….coming up on my birthday and feeling and reeling in the years….The one thing, etc…..yep, still going there….and everywhere💕💜

Going about it

The business of just being

finding themselves moving about this life,

two souls hobnobbing about with royalty,

going about it in their own way,

in search of the shine of a better day.

Silly things really, stowed away

almost unseen like the lizard on a car

and a license of integrity,

did she see in the rearview the passenger

catching a breeze on a hot day,

jumping to a new destination

free ride on the by-way,

perhaps a thumb out as if to say,

hey babe, heading my way?

Turning and moving away from the path

small dot still remains heading home,

and its never as great as the fish that almost got away

before taking a nose dive into the boat

trying so hard to escape

but alas, not your time yet

a bit too small to be part of the haul

so back you go to the locker

and the hook plunges in

tempting heads to entice the supper

waiting at the bottom

as the rain waits to fall

this surreal world comes to call

and I write the fodder of a passing day

rightly ended with a splash of color over head

the skies jumbo slide hangs

and I wonder where the pot at the end

waits and for whom,

if not the dreamer and the images cast

leaving a new thought behind

to an imagination fertile

with wondrous things.

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Thoughts on yesterday again at the Dali museum, and how coming home, a lizard was riding on a womans back windshield, out of the wind as he didn’t go flying off, her license plate said integrty….I would think if she knew, she’d pull over and let the little chap off. The evening ending with a huge rainbow over our house which will be a photo for a post in the future….the fountain of youth outside Dali museum, I was laughing at the hubby, telling him it must be broken when I touched the spigot, water came rushing out and literally scared the bejesus out of me, I jumped like a scalded cat but had a good laugh, I guess that’s what will keep us young. Imagination and fun…my kind of life 🙂 The fish tale (a mermaid perhaps) is coming out of the Rolls Royce that sported the two snails on the front. The inside of the car has water running down like a reverse fountain, with the tale how we try to escape the rain by rushing into our car or home, yet here the rain is within. Very cool to see 🙂

 

Unharnessed

We let these subtle things go,

the nagging little thoughts that shroud

the darkening of the soul

through peace

we see the openings between the lines

slipping loose we are unharnessed to the words

and plucking about in the meadows of life

we gather the sweetest as we move through.

We watch the scenery unfold

as we get about our moments in our heart centered place

moving through space,

each second and memory different and of itself,

we accept which is good and true

to simply let go the rest,

like seeds blowing in the winds

we allow them to take space and root

somewhere beyond where our footprints will not grace,

knowing that which we see is just that,

our interpretation based on the history

which we have created within

and we can be set free to wander the winds

and the mountains to meadows

finding beauty and peace

waiting somewhere for us

fertile ground between ocean to ocean,

we set our sights on the skies

wishing on stars that we know always come through,

guiding us to our rightful space,

gathering us loosely like wildflowers

the good seed replanted in time

to produce the beauty of the universe

and the lingering satisfaction

of a new day of life we create

with love and understanding,

we run to take flight, to soar

and to glide effortlessly

through worlds of truth.

Time and space

Her thoughts drift in quiet places
between wood and air
and the scent of earth damp
from a time that had arrived,
sweeping her into daydreams
blissful in the peace of woods
she wanders corridors of memories
searching for something lost,
knowing it like she knows
the minutes as the moon finds her
peering through leaves
raining down on her aching soul.
Words find and hit their mark
gracefully soothing as she watches,
waiting for full circle
to come round once more.
Whispered letters of the universe
read between lines
as she comes alive from the deepest place
he will rise to find her
calmly waiting with a smile
the light and the darkness
meld into one.

Slipping through

Thoughts like dreams slip through
Portals of the day to day
openings we find ourselves slipping through
weightless doors wait for those who dare
to seek the pleasure;
the paradise beyond what is merely seen.
We center and ground
breathing in and out as if
our existence is just an illusion
as we glide through unnoticed
invisible to the eye.
To raise a smile from the ashes,
words and music of the rhythm of the universe
singing bowls beside the sea
where many have come before
and will come again unknown by those
who never feel the vibe
of peace divine.
We live in these moments
basking in the soft beauty of a bloom
floating on water the ebb and flow
keeps time to the beat
in and out we inhale to finally
exhale the poison of darkness
as the scent of a rogue magnolia finds us
pleasantly surprised
by the folds
of what is waiting inside.
The thought that rises to the top
like cream rich and sweet,
life and its mysteries found
waiting behind the door
of perception awakened.

Unwound/unbound

Untethered we come undone

spiral strings of a thousand colored thoughts

passing into a beautiful  pile

something new created from a mind

unwound/unbound and set free.

An image drifts in

as if through the open window in a storm

blowing/bouncing about the walls

like tiny bubbles floating as I pluck each one out

the thin air allows it to hang

for just a moment

before it disappears.

I think of the scent of lemon zest

or perhaps orange and I feel the emotion

settle like dust to the floor,

where is it these random ideas form

as I follow the string from beginning to knot

I find myself transfixed on the shades and hues

of life seen through the eyes

of a mere girl left pondering

what was it that got away in the second that passed

and where is the meaning

in a wayward scent imagined.

How deep the mind can delve

when let loose to find its path

and the day still blossoming before me

I know the swings and shifts

as I tug gently on the string

will only lead me to the hanging end

where I can casually ball it back up,

tucking it away for a creative day

to throw it out there,

let it unfurl

and begin again.