Raw Earth Ink
spit, mixed with dirt – muddy words flow
Tag: Clear Mind
What’s Real, Though?
in the far reachesin the arid desert \of the soul/a whipping wind rises and fallsmoving grains of sand with little efforthardly barrenthere is life -though sparse-which takes refuge here or therea lone cry rises in the ear of a desert fox kitand suddenlywe know… Continue Reading “What’s Real, Though?”
Seven Purple Crocuses
crystals coat my eyelashes and my puffed breath swirls before my face the mist runs its fingers through the low-lying trees the quiet whisper of dried and yellowed grass in the slightest breeze the grasp of winter’s white blanket still wrapped around their ankles… Continue Reading “Seven Purple Crocuses”
Ice and Snow Winter Photography
Hi friends, here’s another little glimpse at my little bit of Alaska. It was fairly chilly, relatively speaking, for a few weeks but now it’s been in the warm high-teens to mid-twenties (Fahrenheit degrees)… excluding wind chill of course. I can’t believe how warm… Continue Reading “Ice and Snow Winter Photography”
The Thin Veil
At the edge of tomorrow, there stood a moment, stretched out before me, the veil between this life and the beyond spread thin. A separation of body and spirit. I wrestled. On the one hand, peace and rest. On the other, small hands and… Continue Reading “The Thin Veil”
First Born
thoughts, like ribbons, wend and weave behind my watery eyes, beneath my skin occasionally, while sleeping, one lifts a fingernail and drops unceremoniously to glass-covered parchment just a slip of a thing, really upon waking, I may give it a name then send it… Continue Reading “First Born”
Put The Work In
Be willing to put the hard work into yourself. Look at your own actions and thoughts with a clear mind. Forgiveness is hard work. Being honest with yourself is hard work. Stepping out of your comfort zone is hard work. Admitting You Were Wrong… Continue Reading “Put The Work In”
Not Quite Welcome
Into his thoughts she crept Quietly, unbidden He let her stay Perhaps too long And when she chose to leave He could not bear it For he had become used To her presence tara caribou | ©2020
