Walks in winter are quiet, the woodland peaceful and open with the loss of leaves, the seashore in repose. Revealed are relationships, two coming together to create a third.
Textures are more evident; pine bark and dry leaves, moss smooth as fur and prickly in stars.
Muted is the color, cool pastels, silvery bare branches.
Sunset is early now but no less spectacular in it’s winter garb, demarcating days end and evening prayers.
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Passionne’
It was as if the sun
was reaching out
over the water
over the land
into the darkening sky
Passionate about it’s
final moments of glory
hurling color and form
as lightning and thunder
Astonished, I stopped
It is like that, passion
Often seen but seldom joined
I admire from afar
committed
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A Prayer of Considerable Length, Longing For More
“This is the world we know
the world of air and breathing
and sun and beating hearts” and so
it begins, one note, another, a flurry
This is the world we live in
the land we walk upon
A land we call ours, the place of our
Father’s rest and our dreams return
This is the life that surrounds us
in endless forms most beautiful
Do you know them, our
companions in mystery
This is a prayer we say as
two sound as one and bring
forth a new way of listening
“Peace within, peace with
others, peace with our
beautiful world”
Based upon the music composition “This is the World We Know” by David Maslanka
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In a Library
He was young then
only a child
The town was young then too
in an old way
Released from Mother’s hand
jumping up stairs joyous
upon entering a place
of such wonder
A love carried through life
returned in kind from reading
room and cafe
curator and destitute
Some volumes are gone now
checked out as it were
the collection incomplete
There are pages missing
leaving gaps in the stories
The way home being longer
with each passing day
Yet the beauty of his person remains
seen in sweet heartfelt emotions of
gratitude, friendship and love
Acknowledging Fredrik Backman, “And Every Morning the Way Home Gets Longer and Longer”
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This is the land we live in
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