Remnants of the aged;
abandoned under blackened bridges,
lone encampments lost under the soot of covered archways.
Fleeing from the dying gasps of dreams.
Forgotten by children,
Cast aside by lovers.
We gather them up,
tripping through the junkyard of base plans.
We take apart, with hammer,
with nail, with pen,
the dilapidated, the makeshift, the weak,
the worm-worn wood, gray-eyed with age.
sliding them back
into our frayed jackets,
our threadbare pockets,
the holes knotted closed,
and hearts shut tight.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++I suspect that no-one finds this assembled army of animals as beautiful as I do. It is silly really, but I stepped outside the other day, and I found my heart tugged upon by their stillness. So I grabbed my camera and took photos of them. To me, I saw something there in their forgotten-ness, in their loneliness. They seemed to be of some sort of forgotten plan. So I took the photos for me, my own stillness, for those moments when I see something that strikes my heart.
I was also so moved to take a course recently, called Write Now.
I have to say I loved it.
Perhaps because I took it indulgently (just for me) or perhaps because I have some unrequited deep desire to write more, I found it incredibly helpful and engaging. It also gave me something more important: the affirmation of the soul's longing to tell one's own story, to sing one's own song. The beauty of the Write Now course is/was that I didn't ever have to ever aspire to be more than just who I am; never more than who any of us are called to be.
So I am thinking of these things this Tuesday. Of things I do, that are just for me, that end up being fruitful, engaging and soul-filled..such as linking up with bedsidesign for foliophoto. xxoo
(Here is the link if you are interested in finding out more about Write Now. The next course starts September 30th.) xxoo