A snowflake wends its way to earth,
dissolving on your hand.
Two or three and more leave
snow pearls in your hair.
You lift your face to the sky,
receive snow kisses on your skin,
hold your breath
as the magic gathers
and in the drifting white
the world is transfigured.
In an awesome quiet
you listen to the morning,
and birdsong,
that echoes deep into your heart.
For Heather Dawn Kemp
Chopin’s Seagull ballet
to
Air On A ‘G’ String.
Photo ©Teri Flynn
Water prickling,
seeping through pebbles,
over and under to the far-out sea.
Come back, come back, be filled.
One lonely gull,
no more than that to prove I exist,
here, now.
Mounds of brown sea-weed,
great lumps of slime and slither on denser rock.
The scent of ozone everywhere
neither sweet nor pungent, in my lungs, my mind.
Xylophone tinkles on pebbles,
Power of Cello in wise old rocks.
Trumpet call from standing trees
that hold the cliffs a few days more.
A muffled silence in sagging,
rain filled clouds,
the long, lonely, notes roaring in my ears.
9pm. The tide creeps slowly in.A seagull flies overhead. The helicopter returns, sees me here, sitting on this rock.
Like an angel come to see if I’m alright, I’ll be alright, It tilts in acknowledgement, so low above, then returns to it’s watchful duty over the estuary, returning over and over like an old friend.
Hold fast to the tiller,
to Gods of wind and waves.
Through storms and dreams,
through heartbeat of wings
that arc and swoop and cry for land.
Art © 2014 TCFlynn @ Masked Native
In response to ivonprefontaine blog post, TakingThe Helm, I am making a return to WordPress with this updated post. With thanks for his word prompt Adrift and look forward to catching up with my WordPress friends again.
Watching Seagulls drifting air currents, my arms stretched wide.
Muscles soft, mind adrift.
Tracing patterns with gossamer wings.
The Winter Solstice brings more wind, more rain.
A single bird sings with many voices in the Holly tree.
The song is vibrant, clear, urgent. I long to understand its message,
but all I can hear is joy, all I can see is the Holly Tree,
singing to the wind and rain.
.
It’s about colour,
simply and wonderfully
ignoring distractions,
absorbing,
like water aware of rising and falling,
aware of the observer,
seeing with different eyes.
