When I see the word “climb”the image of Maria (Julie Andrews) comes to mind and I hear the finale of The Sound of Music, “Climb Every Mountain”. In life, we are presented many mounds and foothills to surmount…some seeming too difficult to climb. Some do not always see the different paths to get to the top; others do not realize they don’t have to do it all alone…
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[…] “Over every mountain there is a path, although it may not be seen from the valley. ” […] Theodore Roethke
child looks wide-eyed yet – time moves at a snail’s pace eyelids beckon
child looks wide-eyed
mound of sand with tiny holes
tiny critters climb
yet- time moves at a snail’s pace
despite grappling wit
millimetre steps
eyelids weigh
resolutely reach the top
misses finale
He met her at the station. She ran into his arms as soon as she spotted him in the crowd. Breathless, she leaned against his chest, feeling his heart beat. He lifted her face with his hand gently under her chin …
lips locked
under the pink moon
her cheeks flushed
[…] “The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched – they must be felt with the heart.” […]Hellen Keller
Today on her way to work, she noticed a bumble bee moving ever slightly on the blossom of a black eyed Susan. She hesitated a moment as she would have loved to take a photo but then she walked on thinking a photograph would not even come close to the image she was savouring in her mind.
with passion embrace
savouring sweet nectar
bumble bee hums
[…] “Let the beauty of what you love be what you do.” […] Rumi
There is no question the love she has for her children and their children; they are from her, a part of her extending into the future. And as she is like a daisy with each petal depicts the multiplicity of her personality, hence, several petals group together forming another passion…her love of reaching out to those in need.
pain bleeds
late in the night – and then,
gentle sigh of relief
sweetens the night air
voice of comfort
Waking up to grey skies, she cannot help but feel there is more to this day then this muted sky. No, definitely, she feels it. Her feline friend does too. Something tangible is felt in the atmosphere she knows will transpire soon…
morning skies
relief is on the way
melancholy haze
Walking home with her grandson after a wonderful day in the city, she could not help but admire the sky. Once, her grandson was sound asleep, she read about the sad news…such a loss in the world of haiku. And then, she understood the mysteries of the sky tonight.
dash of white clouds stand out in the night sky
dash of white clouds
splash of goodness
wings of an angel
stand out
seventeen syllables
more or less
in the night sky
greets an angel with a smile
crescent moon
How wonderful to escape in words that take you to places in body and soul. She had downloaded a 5-book mystery novel plus a prequel last week…what a great way to enjoy Civic holiday weekend. Of course some may not be too pleased but like they say, “you can’t please everyone all the time.”
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder just as finding beauty in any kind of creative art. I don’t know why but this prompt “art” makes me thing of garbage day in the suburbs. Whenever you want to get rid of something that is still in fairly good condition, you usually put it to the curb a day or two before garbage day. I got rid of two sewing machines that way, a television and furniture. Within a few hours I saw cars or pick-up trucks collecting my wares. Someone’s trash can be another’s treasure and that is what makes me find the relation between art and trash.
I remember when I was a teenager and lived at our grandmother’s house. My sister and my bedroom was the furnace room in the basement. There was a small old bookshelf and I decided to paint it psychedelic style. Yep, I made it look like trash but at the time I thought it was art. Boy, was my grandmother EVER patient and tolerant to endure that piece of crap in our bedroom. But then again, she did not intrude in our little sanctuary too much. We were so blessed and never truly realized that gift at the time.
Look at young children who draw us their first pictures. Okay, okay, your heart is probably melting thinking of that first drawing. But honestly we actually had to ask our child what they saw in it because, let’s face it, we had not clue. But our hearts were all gooey and warm and filled with so much love, right?
Writing is an art as well as most of you who are reading may agree. Well, heck, of course it is!! When I started blogging I am pretty sure I did not create art but with encouragement and my love of the written word, I got a tiny bit better every day. I can’t draw or paint as I would love to but I have accepted to paint my world with words in poetry and especially in my waka (Japanese forms of poetry)
(c)Clr’16
lazy afternoon
ending with a slow dive
in the distance
heart swells with such joy
magenta skies and mauve clouds
Preparing for a five-day visit away, she fills bowls of water and dishes of kibble around the kitchen and living room; fans are placed strategically to have a nice breeze throughout the area.
off to the country
golden and shepherd await
feline left behind
meowing and nuzzling
reaping those last strokes