Pictures of BARK!

Jane Lurie Photography

“Trees are your best antiques.”

~Alexander Smith

Montezuma Cypress

Sugar Pine

Old Man Joshua Tree

Eucalyptus Glow

Giant Redwood

Monterey Cypress

Palm

Ponderosa Pine

Furrowed

Eucalyptus and Beetle

Caught I

Caught II

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Image from aronline.co.uk

. . . . .

The road beckons

a great Halloo

begging my attention

tempting me with favors

The road barks and calls,

“Come this way!

I have what you need,

what you’ve been looking for,

what you’ve never dreamed of before.

Come over here!”

The road cries out loud,

it wakes me

it stirs me

it calls me by name

it makes promises

I cannot resist;

like the grandest sale ever

bargains beyond belief

everything you want

at prices low enough to make history

But the road is not telling me

about the true and hidden costs.

The road keeps its hand close to its vest

The road is confident of the power of its hand.

I offer my best poker face

and step out onto The Road.

. . . . .

^{Image from danceask.net}

. . . . .

There is a mesmerizing dance

of sounds and syllables;

a triumphant choreography

of symbols and ciphers;

a sizzling scintillation

of shouts and sighs…

.

It happens

when language is

so eloquently stitched

that images and sensations

are spawned almost unbidden

in our imaginations.

Well-combined words,

whether read or heard,

can take us for a while

to another place and time.

.

The dance of words.

The hide and seek.

The thrust and parry.

The jump, the slide, the pause.

The twist and the twirl.

The calm emergence.

The nerve-jangling suspense,

and the jarring revelation.

.

The writer’s palette

grants entry to worlds beyond,

and the enraptured reader

dances boldly onward.

. . . . .

I follow several photographers’ blogs, mostly because I know my own hobbyist dreams are excited by the visual poetry I see in them. Jane Lurie is one of my favorites. Her images never disappoint! I encourage y’all to enjoy this post of hers and to follow her and spread the word.

Jane Lurie Photography

“The camera is an instrument that teaches people how to see without a camera.”

~ Dorothea Lange

Moss and Pine

Windblown

Coneflower

Rock Face

Lily

Blooming

Barnacles and Limpets

Bonnie’s Favorite

Red Vibe

Early Arrival

Summer’s End

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^{Image from Wikipedia}

. . . . .

It’s a wonder

the struggle to settle

on a subject for one’s next poem.

I read delightful, inspired pieces

from my many blogger-poet friends,

and the subjects are often – even usually –

everyday, common,

one could even say mundane.

I believe it is the commonness

that delivers the great charm

I find in their works.

The poems themselves

are invariably beautiful,

poignant, humorous, and elegant.

What we see, hear, touch, taste, and smell

delights us, thrills us,

takes us to lofty locales

where every flower is a ride on a zipline,

every star has us shooting the rapids,

every dew-drop takes us to an inner spiral galaxy

of beauty and joy.

Poetry helps us make sense of our senses.

We are always looking, always listening

for the special way words cling to each other

or push each other away;

the way words can create a tuneful humming in our spirits

or a jangling klaxon of alarm.

Our hearts and minds are filled with wonder

when words are woven well.

We will read them again and again

just to savor the sweet sensation.

We are surrounded by poetry.

The great wonder is how we

confine the poetry around us

to simple words on a page.

It is a wonder.

. . . . .

^{Image from nextstepministries.com}

. . . . .

They say

tomorrow never comes.

By the time tomorrow arrives,

it is already today.

It is always today.

The only day you will ever

actually live through

is today.

I hear your minds

all over the world

churning through

the many cloying cliches

about the abundant beauties

of today;

invoking ‘the rest of your life’

and all that.

Yet we can also hear

Scarlett’s voice

expressing the inherent hope

in the concept of tomorrow

“…another day…”

Yes.

Another day

that will be

today.

Every day.

All days are

today.

. . . . .

. . . . .

What was in your toy box when you were a child?

Do you remember?

Did you have favorite toys?

If you were like me, you did.

And you probably had toys

that saw little use,

eventually relegated rudely

to the dark, out-of-reach,

out-of-sight recesses

at the bottom of the bottom

of your toy box.

What toys do you have these days?

Do you allow yourself any play time?

Can you find those little-used toys

that are hidden, forgotten, forlorn?

What is in your toy box?

. . . . .

. . . . .

One brave little flower

declaring to the world

I am here

I am strong

I am beautiful

I will lead my brothers and sisters

to the light

and like an assembled company

of childrens’ crayon suns

we will broadcast

our bright beacons

to cause all who see us

to smile

as their hearts are warmed

by our brilliant proclamations

We are here!

We are strong!

We are beautiful!

. . . . .

. . . . .

We call this a daisy bush (or bush daisy).

Its scientific nomenclature is Euryops pectinatus.

^{Image from stevivor.com}

. . . . .

My dreams have dreams.

I’m not talking about the

rapid-eye-movement, deep-sleeping dreams.

I mean my aspirations.

My hopes, anticipations, bucket-listish stuff.

Those things I ponder

when the miasmic chaos

of so-called ‘real life’

manages to slow down

enough for me to think,

to breathe, to wonder

what might possibly come next.

At this time in my life

many of my dreams

have already presented themselves.

Now my dreams have layers.

One would think they’d be simpler.

Maybe they are, taken individually.

But it seems all my dreams

have crowded themselves

into one chamber of my consciousness.

They are all getting to know each other.

I think they all want to go on an extended cruise together.

My dreams are trying to figure out

which other dreams they want to hang out with.

It will be good when they get it settled.

. . . . .

^{Image from marcellusdrillingcom}

. . . . .

I have mentioned this before.

But still,

who knew?

Following lots of blogs

leads to virtual avalanches

of notifications,

which hang out casually

in one’s email inbox

patiently awaiting disposition.

One must decide.

Read? Skip? Save? Share? Delete?

Truthfully,

for me anyway,

the deciding is fun!

I get to see lots and lots of content

that has been waiting

in the ethereal Green Room

of blog postages

to be consumed, appreciated, smiled at,

sometimes tugging at emotions,

sometimes making me nod my head in agreement,

sometimes making me shake my head in disbelief or disgust,

or simple humor,

or uproarious humor.

Good stuff all the way ’round.

Apparently I ‘follow’ over 100 blogs.

Not all of them are particularly active.

Some have become utterly silent.

But YOU, my dear blogging friends,

you keep on keeping on,

and I am enjoying every moment of your

keeping-on-ing-ness.

Bring it, y’all!

. . . . .