The Rainbow Fountain, Conservancy Garden, Central Park

Our graceful Rainbow plays for a moment in the Italian Garden Fountain. As you can see, Rainbow is already vanishing back into its transparent spirit home. Fortunately, our brave photographer arrived just in time!

A fall afternoon in the Italian Garden

The Power of a Silhouette

Feel your toes grip the wet sand

Inhale the Ocean

listen!
The gulls are playing.

Mission for the Day

1. In today's travels, isolate a small silhouette .  (it should be a ways away, or we can be grabbed by the   nearest 'Q'. )

2. Pause awhile, and let a blessed, unused memory flood your senses. 

3. Breathe deeply.

4. Smile.

A Fountain Full of Fractals

Fractals! They’re those never-ending patterns that “display self-similarity…in all scales”. In mathematics, a self-similar object is exactly or approximately similar to a part of itself.*

Is there no rest for the self-centered? Do you want to know how to be a fractal? Just do the same stupid thing over and over!

And this rainbow we are talking about.
There is the very same self-similar rainbow in each tiny droplet and packet of drops and fountain of drops! And there you have the essence of it; the soul of it if you will. The rainbow, in fact,
 is immortal.

Do you remember how to discover a rainbow? First locate body of water (a dew drop will do). Position yourself between the drop and the sun, and sooner or later there it will be. Of course it’s been there all along. A soul waiting for the right circumstances.

Fractal Fountain in the Italian Garden of the Conservancy; Central Park

*Somewhere on the web…

Walking Through the Blessings caught in Blessing Fountain

Sink down inside the hidden places,

wait next to the heart of the matter,

sense the sharded rainbow nesting there

Ounce Makes Friends and Defends Territory

 Ounce is playing in his favorite water bowl of all time, the Secret Garden Burnett fountain. Granted, sometimes Ounce travels near to large bodies of water, but really the preference is for small, contained spaces with a few close friends.

Despite an argument now and then (especially with larger birds: Ounce is a little Alpha), Ounce loves having friends over.

It's LIfe, Just LIfe, It's as Simple as That

Passion slicing into waiting cells
I-ching tossing wake up dreams
No more pickup-stix with broken spirits

It is him, just him, that's what it seems
A base note playing with a rare perfume
A tangle full of top notes, singing

Almost as though it were actually me
Is this the way it ought to be
This is the way of the inside me

That movie-raptured side of me
Chondrial self without the layers
Dharma self, made up of chi

Living in a palomino day
Soaking with the breath of life
sinking Into the sunny layer
Into who am I am I me am I you am I
Yes! Oh how I want that way to be

Rusty leaves, dry stalks and slippery greens
Pulsing with the drum of life
Transparent with the juice of winter apples.

Italian Garden, Conservancy Garden, New York Central Park

On the Nature of Conflict Resolution

Anger sets the mind on fire,
Dragging hot coals along the breast bone, searching for kindling,
searching for a light to spark the white hot fuse.
stabbing, searing, driving rage with icy calm,
shooting bitter shrapnel, tempering the smitten soul,
slicing through the broken worn out spirit,
pulling the roots apart, exposing again a breaking heart,
still striving reaching, craving for a sun,
craving soil that isn’t caked with dead dry muddy quicksand,
spiraling spinning, spitting, banging thumpity
thumpity thump, thump, thump, thump
There is no rhythm to it anymore!
No inside shell, no place to go to ground.
Nothing but an inside war torn up with foxholes,
injured and shredded like a grated thing.
How can a few remaining decades mend our very substance?
Can I re-enter life again, with such a damaged heart?
Oh gentle hope, I see you creeping in among the shadows!

Freedom

Time flew away again

It's dusk at the gated garden

Colors are settling down

Fountain showers blessings in the night

It's Cold, Really!

Tra-la-la, Tra-la-lee, Tra-la-loo…
I’ve got nothing important to do!
No Races to run,
No to-do’s to be done,
Boohoo, boohoohoo, boohoohoo!

It’s cold in the park,
It’s cold every year,
So why not accept it
And move on from here?

Ok! I’ll adjust,
I’ll re-tool and comply.
Everyone does it,
So why not I?

Tomorrow I’ll change!
Or maybe today;
The year’s only started,
It will all be OK.

Plaza Fountain at Lincon Center in January:   How Cold could it really Be?