
life
Day 844, 1000 flowers.
Day's pictures, Haiku, Poetry
A thousand flowers
are moved by random currents
falling in and out.
Day 835, around.
Day's pictures, Haiku, PoetryA beautiful leaf
A bug’s meal or it might fall
A circular life
Day 808, papa don’t preach.
Day's pictures, Haiku, Poetry
Charmingly dirty
enthusiastically
eyes still wide open.
Day 804, a thought.
Day's pictures, Haiku, Poetry
Gathering the suns
essential ingredient
for life’s consciousness.
Day 766, majestic.
Day's pictures, Poetry
A curled-up stained glass leaf
broken cells hanging lifeless like decaying azure
at one-time a majestic canopy.
Day 764, waiting.
Day's pictures, Poetry
In a dark moist corner
an autumn red womb opened on time
new life unwittingly reaching out.
Day 754, paint it.
Day's pictures, Poetry
Being a brushstroke and shade’s
deep color’s pressures sudden turns fading out
our hunger the blank canvas.
Day 734, Perfect circle.
Day's pictures, Poetry
When you’re closing the circle
you have been pushed at different times
but pressure makes its rounds.
Day 708, Mist in your mind.
Day's pictures, Our mind
The horizon, your future, is often clad in mist, is what people often say. I disagree, if I look to the future with my minds eye I don’t see a fog, a grayish wall of nothing, I see outlines extending from the present. I see some general direction and contours of what might be. I know off course that around the corner the road might turn another way, but I see a future and not a grey wall of doubt that leads you blindly to anxiety. The future might seem tough and overwhelming every now and then but remember, you wouldn’t have arrived at this point from the past if that road was impassible. Air out your brain, let the grey mist be blown away so you can see the outlines of your life and future, the things that matter and the facts you must obey. Life might not always seem fair but that’s just a misunderstanding, life does not know what is fair or unfair, those are just concepts we invented and why there is religion and faith. Life is just there and it is what we live with a few things we know and a lot that we don’t.
Day 697, Winter time.
Day's pictures, Poetry
