she said it was a flame bush; but the fires have gone out. winter's here; an early snow has blown in. today it is a snow bush; outside are ice and snow. arthritic pain in many joints, i know i feel too much. sometimes it feels as if i'm numb to other people's pain not caring as deeply as i should. (we are all family)
resting on a rock in somebody's garden far away one old wheel won't keep on turning it is finished for today. i see no stories in rotting wood; no memories connect to anyone who ever turned this wheel. it could have been a farmer's thing, part of an implement of effort and toil, something to stir up old sediments washed ashore, dry decades ago. in this desert place, old wood as in this wheel decays very slowly. it all turns to dust.
a castle on a rock (mediteranean) a vignette helps us see things we might miss how blue the midday sea can be! sunshine on the waves, we see pirate ships, tied up beside the stone causeway. today the castle is no fortress, those days are long past. things have changed so much these days because the pirates are not at the gates because now pirates own the the castles.
Little Truck #3/13 everything so white on an island, in a blue sea. once again we consider the wite walls of the town, little white truck, white marble walls... but are they marble? limestone is white too. little white trucks are common there, working hard as ever trucks anywhere. narrow streets no barrier to tiny trucks. on white cobblestones and painted streets.
some kind of orange lily, i don't remember what they said it was named. orange is not always tigers. if this orange is a tiger then this is a tiger tamed. these days, as winter eases down over the hill tops, we feel a chill, down here in our valley bottom. we wait for our first blizzard of the season.
i've heard that incredible evil here is done some are beaten, tortured (hung). in the name of nothing real, evil creatures rant and roar, believing they are right (and just), somehow doing the will of a vengeful god. i begin to wonder if we are even the same species, but i try hard to believe in a basic goodness in people. now as i think about how i feel, i begin to understand that some people are not people i would ever want to know.
leading upwards an old white stair shows us the way home if that is home white paint bought in bulk shows things a bit cleaner than we thought (white paint shows dirt) and then there are the white stairs, a challenge and for some of us, a minor ordeal do not look for miracles, mostly they are misunderstood but so welcome.
i always try to keep my distance when i pass these ancient walls. (ruined) i hesitate as they may fall, (standing so long on unstable earth) as continents approach each other to each pressure builds again until the earth itself shakes like a bowl of jelly. we know better and carefully we keep our distance. how can standing walls resist shaking? failing to fall through millenia? resisting gravity quite unreasonably. (we see that ancient brick has stood so long, is standing still through millenia)
sometimes we may learn from watching a puppy our behaviour and attitudes made plain ozzie bites at his leash and i know i do that too straining in futility my leash aggravates and i struggle with the idea of constraint like the tri-coloured rebellious pup ozzie used to be he's a little older now and better behaved he has learned to accept his constraints but i have not so in some ways he has surpassed my own acceptance of ties that bind me
Dreams and Dreamstuff sometimes beauty in unmistakeable. we look and relook, hoping always for ultimate visual treat(s). salmon pink, pale green too, on a white field. colour dreams; colour dreamstuff! we are fortunate. others are not so lucky as we are. there are stories to tell stories to hear, nightmares we created. but we could try a little harder, to make things good for all our friends wherever and whoever they might be.