Pictorial Prose

Pictorial Prose
Indulging my most lucid daydreams

Friday, June 24, 2011


 I worked my hands into the soil and allowed the earth to filter through my fingers and for a brief moment I was once again a sentimental dreamer. Thorns from the brier, irritation from the thistle and as I  gathered the plants  to clear a path, the time shot by like shooting missile. I tried to sift like sand from stone all my memories and again to make some sense of  life through all that experience brings. Sometimes there was sadness, heartache and despair and other times I saw only love and joy as happiness appeared.

I left my footprints in the season,
where the winter snow had fallen,
and when I look back to that day,
it was the dance of love that  first
came calling.

I spun around in circles till the
spring thaw made its way and
I watched the crocus break
through the earth and cast signs
of hope upon the day.

Waiting on the bluebird, I
looked to the north and
suddenly it occurred to me
their migration is from the
southern shore.

The rays of summer and the
sounds of falling rain blended
together to create a stage
where dreams are played.

Loneliness is when you can no longer see over the mountains nor feel the love in your heart and all that surrounds the moment is draped in  clouds of dark. But there is sunshine over the mountain and you live within my heart and when I close my eyes to sleep each night I hold you close within my arms.

The more you experience, 
the more you see. 

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