Discovering Beauty in Everyday Life

Once upon a time, long before now, When the grass was as green as a lollypop~ Off we went down the sidewalk edge, looking for a piece of eternity. It was a popsicle day, With trees saturated in summer~ Sidewalks so hot you needed shoes, You could fry an egg if you wanted, they said. We were warned of course, about crossing the street, We were threatened, coerced and cautioned~ Of course we crossed it anyway, As we scattered away that diamond day.

Sneaking out the beauty in the stumbling places Seeing bright red brick under the tarnished  episodes Knowing for once the people underneath the rubble Unearthing the best in show. Just below Park Avenue & 97th Street

I was traveling along in my mind the other day, searching for a random thought about a certain something, when I came across an outcrop. Not in my mind, no, but an actual outcrop from a hill. Sitting on the outcrop, believe it or not, was a small practically transparent Pherosa. It may seem odd, since there are so few Pherosas around, but when you see an unusual something sitting on an outcrop that is practically transparent, well. That is exactly what will come to mind. “Can I help you?” It said, and come to think of it I did need a little help with a lot of things. For one, I was concerned about what to do with the rest of my life, and so I asked its name. “Pherosina", said the Pherosa. "Rosey for short.”  “Do you ever wonder what life is all about?” I asked. “Not since I gave up wondering about death”, said Rosey. I had a leaf last year, a leaf on a tiny stem, born that spring, it was a wrinkled little thing (said Rosey). It spread itself and found its lobes ...

I once was a flower of spirit & elan I can’t remember when I was part of a cluster of beauty you see But I didn’t see it then I think I had a sweet bouquet But I can’t remember when My beauty faded, like it does I regret it now and then I lost my petals and fell to the ground I’m not sure what happened then Somehow this summer I came back again But I can’t remember when! Snowball bush in the Secret Garden -- 2013 Mission for the day: 1. Select a time when you should be doing something else 2. Breath deeply. In......Out. Iiiiiiinnnnn..... Out... 3. Picture a clock in your mind. (how many of you pictured an alarm clock with a bell on top?) 4. Now think: Tick! jump! Tock! jump! Tick! jump! Tock!! 5. Finally, recall the quiet, sweeping second hands of old...... tiiccckkkktocccckkktiiccckkkktocccckkk May you be blessed sweeping petals and slowly changing things, ( was a bloom with esprit and élan,)

There’s a time that comes every once in a while, I know about it; I’ve seen it before, and I bet you know it as well-- that scape without a sea or a land to anchor its astral position. I heard it said the other day, that intellect and feeling live in separate domains, and yet now and then a remnant escapes from the past  to rattle today. I know a brainstorm comes now and then, but who cares, and so what? It's polite as can be, It knocks before it comes in! But an emotional scrap, now that does distract! It mews and it pants with a wish and a bounce, dribbling, careening, and trouncing right over our sane conversation! It was then that I knew how I longed for that day,  the one that I thought I had lost.. A crumpled up day tossed away in the rain, a puddle I barely remember. What happens then, when you watch the same scape  a hundred times over again, without  land or a sea or a shore that remains of our permanent link in that destiny chain. ...

We were drugged and dragging then, through a snow-topped mountain, grey and tawny black, thoughts racing, focused a long way back.  Punch, punch, through the crust-topped snow. No skiing today, not with this rocky sun-smeared frozen icy covered trail. Ice breath hanging in the dry air;  wind cutting down the canyons. It was the spring thaw that brought us to a new life, forlorn among the daisies. I could not control the sneaky destiny,  harpoon impaling in my chest; your  blood-soaked heart caught the other end, shaking and surviving, throwing back an anchor line.  We were too weak, too meek, too unforeseen, too resonant to disambiguate the situation.  And what to do with all that slack that only tightens when we walk away?  L etting go;  fingers soaked in  pain-stained history; There was the cornbread life, baked in a round pan, brown edged in the afternoon, pulling away from the iron rim on the wood baked stove.  At the cott...

Screeching and crashing Fast^ Buy@ Sell# Now% Substitution Satisfaction Buying time for beauty Prying out a life Rural Denver 2012

 Just in time,  it's Autumn Rose's turn Conservancy Garden Roses in Late October

I saw the coolness come before I heard it; a small thinning in the sound, a sight cut along the edges.   I could almost trace the tiny modulation back to its beginning, with that slithered criticism, and that red tongue snapping at the skin. Is there still time to double back along the   harvest path?  Dusk below the conservancy gardens

Old New York New New York

A Doctor's Office:  Meditation

When there’s only a streak or two left from the settling sun, when only dusk and grain remain from the contrasting blue, then dark green shadows burrow into the soul, where even love escapes from destiny

  Well, Maybe not...