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 … More Snow Song
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 … More Sound Of Silence
Morning sojourn, a single gull on the water, touching home.
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.
Originally posted on Masked Native:
? 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…
Watching Seagulls drifting air currents, my arms stretched wide. Muscles soft, mind adrift. Tracing patterns with gossamer wings.
