Home for the holidays
smooth brown hills
set in a falling landscape
farms and fields of winter wheat
out west beyond the windmill
arms spread wide, dancing hands
that bow to grace a fertile gentle land
what new and subtle changes lie
beneath the wide wind blistered sky
that same familiar patchwork view
perhaps the change is me not you

Don't die on a hill
You are really only familiar with,
By name.

All the same,
Life is our own to live.

If you choose to lead it
With half-thought ideas;
You have only yourself to blame.

On my journey to my grandmother’s, the landscape holds my attention with subtleties.
Muted hues of soft lavender, pale brown, and ashy green painted outside the dashboard. Everything peeking out from a gentle coat of dust.
Yellow weeds and thistles dot the golden hills.

This corner of the country feels like a cherished family heirloom. The color palette resonates with my only sense of familiarity. Maybe it is my fixation on the colors themselves that buffer any sense of grief I carry towards instability.  None of us in my family have claimed permanency in structure. Yet, my grandmother’s home is a sanctuary.

CITY OF THE SOUL

Dawn, take my sorrows.
I tired of being a passenger
of the dark.
Make me awash with sensation.
Let me forget despair.
Let me feel the city’s vibration.

I want to be a carefree wanderer
upon wide open boulevards,
piercing the veil of shadows’
oblivion, following a series
of endless crossroads
towards some conflagration
of urban lights, captured
by the conjurer of thoughts
agility.

I reach into all the hidden spaces
searching for the essence of myself.
Only there in the vastness of starless
unconsciousness can I perceive
that celestial expanse of light.

I hate seeing your face, I really do
You painted me like a landscape, green and blue
Green with envy, Blue and subdued
I still question, what I mean to you
I try not to let the abandonment issues win
I try to reimagine myself partying in Berlin
I miss the blaze of the blunt, the bass in the club
I miss the days when I felt enough
without anyone other than myself

And before me lay
The glory of the world.
Hard as we might try,
We could not defeat its beauty.

wizard and le wand ~~
pruning that black forest
her moist velvet purse


© 2021

It is so bright outside,
I have to squint my eyes.
Has it snowed again?
What a great surprise.

'Cos Winter has long gone.

Yesterday there were blossoms
colouring the landscape white.
Temperature must have dropped
quite drastic in the night.

April's weird and getting weirder.

Changed my plans for today
and bear it with a grin,
just like the bumblebee
I've decided to stay in.