Trail's End

Black phoebe alights
Right in front of me
Her usual speed
Slowed down to infinity

Her wings
Completely Spread
A glint of seriousness
In her eyes

She is speaking
Something important
Yet,
I cannot hear

As I rise the final steps
And turn to the east
I see of what she speaks
The path ending
Into a place called destiny

Where trees and clouds
Speak knowledge
From eons past
And harmony
Has never lost her power

And I Thought

There comes a time
To question shadows
And thank the darkness.

How else will we appreciate
The light of day?

Revelations
Are sweet and liberating.
Releasing ourselves
From our own ignorance.
They are self-critical
And beloved
For they make us whole.

I have concluded
That perfect expectation is appropriate
For know-it-alls
And for the lazy
Who are not willing to work
Too petrified to morph.

Selfishness is a poison
Its bitter jaundice
Evidenced in our masks
Stunting our growth
Imprisoning us
In cells
Of our own doing

multiple exposure photograph –
Early in my photographic walk, I learned that the darkness is a friend to imaging. These other things I learned in my youth and onward, realizing the world does not revolve around me and sometimes I have to just let go of the negative. Building a positive life does not always mean what we think it should mean or look like sometimes. Coming to terms with that will liberate the soul.
I practice Christianity, however I do not talk much about it here. That world view has fixed my perspectives. It is a place to start, and to end.

A Place to Dock

The sea is unforgiving and relentless
We do not belong on her body
Yet we venture out every day
Looking for value and adventure.

She reminds us we do not belong
Pitch and roll is her answer
To our curiosity.
Only time will train us
A sense of a new normal.

It is a price to pay
For living in places
We do not belong
But we are motivated
To master.

Approaching land
Legs, arms
Begin to rejoice.

The dock sighted
Another beginning
Of the old
New normal

photograph “Sailor’s Dock” – Lensbaby Zoneplate Optic

It's a Big Sky

My daughter
It is good to see you fly

Against the wind
You have learned this skill.
Many have tried
To ground you
Pulling feathers
As they retreat.

Cowards

I am friends with midnight,
Knowing its darkness
Has come for you
And each night
I died many deaths
Knowing the confusion
That was defining your life.

We were helpless
Watching this tragic play.
Yet, not hopeless.
Wings grow strong.
Watching you run
Broad wings strengthened
Lifting our beloved.

Above it you soar.
And those below
Take note.
A measure of pride.
Or, a measure of shame.
Recompense
Of earned scars.


Trail Encounter1

A little hummingbird friend
Watching me from a safe distance

I ask, “How’s the trail today?”
“Grass is making a comeback.
You know how grass is!
Always shows up early to the party.

And tree…
Well you know tree.
He hangs on to leaves
To the bitter end
Here,
Where it is freezing in the morning
And balmy in the afternoons.

Tree,
Is a little confused.
Have a nice walk.”

“Thank you.
Have a nice…
A nice…
Fly.”