Awakening

How do you picture awakening?

Awakening curves
stretching wide with the dawning
wings spread to heaven

Awakening, this weeks photo challenge.

 

 

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A Birthday Poem

Still missing Becky’s squares and not capable of stringing much more than a sentence together this evening, I thought I’d reblog one of my poems. Next to my own River Exe, the Teign is one of my favourite rivers anywhere. This poem is my tribute to it.

Lucid Gypsy

Today is the day, but as always I plan to have a birthday month, so I spent yesterday walking beside the river Bovey. This is the result.

Rushing Slowly

I contemplate the transience of the River Bovey.

Every molecule of water that flows past my feet

has a destiny, whether it is to evaporate,

to splash onto the shingle that scratches at my soles,

sink into the peaty soil

or connect with the vastness of the sea.

Every leaf, green, frosted or baked dry by the sun

will crumble, flake along the route

or wash up intact on a beach,

ten or ten thousand miles away.

Every little stick tumbles and rolls

between east and west river bank,

to be claimed by a golden retriever

or gathered by a green consumer

to give home a few minutes of warmth.

From its source between Chagford and Shapley commons,

the Bovey glides, swirls…

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A bit of a sepia day

I don’t often get gloomy, but right now I’m in a bit of a low mood.  Several of the people in my world have been struggling with things for a while and today they are on my mind. 

This time last year was a period of loss, and we all know that anniversary’s are powerful.

I took this photo on this morning’s walk by the river, and the sun came out soon after. The good thing is a slight rise in temperature has improved my energy level, so I expect I’ll bounce back tomorrow.

Have a good week everyone.

 

Rust, turquoise and wire

Find the photo, it’s the one with all three, above the two wood person.

Nature’s sculpture curves, sways and strives
to sling un-human’s detritus from the margins
to protect the vast ocean from more of the rot

nothing on this planet that hasn’t always been
then what vile reversed alchemy allows iron,
converts copper, and bends bronze until
it becomes a web of death for seal, dolphin, albatross?
to disintegrate into toxic crumbs in the cold blooded
sea fish that fetch up formed into fingers
crumbed and plated with so much sea salt
disguising neutralizing the residue of iron
fingers of rust turn to dust in the gut

oil carbon chemical process turns into sacks
and plastic bags, bottles to contain oil
to massage into aging flesh
while hastening our planet’s death

Black and white Sunday

My first black and white Sunday for a while, and this week Paula’s chosen ‘after before’. She’d like to see the same photo, before and after it’s converted to monochrome. When flying out of Pisa last year, we made a brief stop at the Piazza dei Miracoli, to see the famous leaning tower.

I wasn’t expecting to see a fallen angel, but there on the grass broken  and forlorn, lay the Angelo Caduto by Polish sculptor Igor Mitoraj.

Does he look better in colour?

I don’t think so, the people ignoring him as they walk on by are distracting. Apparently Pisa is a temporary home, he may have flown on by now.