Sophia Said – 3

Sophia said it doesn’t matter that you don’t know how, or why, or when.

Listen, there is music.

Grey light

A random google link to Sophia, Goddess of Wisdom brought to my mind the words “Sophia says go out to play.”  So in response to the 5 day photo/story challenge from suedreamwalker check out her lovely blog, I accept this writing challenge and hope my efforts are worthy of Sophia’s wisdom.

The Pond

As my eyes became accustomed,
I could see below the surface.
Whiskers on the black catfish made me think of spiders,
how they run towards you, as if they knew.
It made me shiver but I stayed at the edge,
watched a dragon-fly dance on lily pad leaves,
eager goldfish catching flies, and hundreds of tadpoles,
wriggling like cut worms.
I wondered how and when they turned into frogs,
and where they went when they left the safety of the pond.
It made me wonder about the world.

My nomination for this third photo challenge is Geo Sans, the simplicity and style of his blog are a real treat to see.

Here are the rules for the “Five Photos Five Stories” challenge: “Post a photo each day for five consecutive days and attach a story to the photo. It can be fiction or non-fiction, a poem or a short paragraph and each day nominate another blogger for the challenge.
(Sporadic posting is alright if you’re unable to post each day.)

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Sophia Said – 2

Forest keep

Wisdom is realising what monuments of your life are worth restoring,
and what needs rest.

Thresholds

Old buildings are incredibly interesting, the lives they contained, the changes, the eventual giving way to natural processes of decay, mosses, lichens, nesting grooves for all kinds of animals, and there are those not built to last, will never age with grace and beauty.

Beginnings and endings. The open door-the closed-the locked. Was it a purposeful decision or allowed to occur without permission. Life has a way of repeating various scenes, acts, places, reaping the same response from habits formed. Other doors are available, other ways of being, doing.

But I like the one I already have, you might say, it’s  comfortable, and I’ve just bought a new chair to sit in. See how well it fits me.

Stop. Look closer……you look so much better standing up, your body is leaner, fluid, movement propels you into action.  I know what you’re thinking, I told you so, isn’t that it, how many times have I told you to change what you’re doing. I know, I know, but you didn’t understand, it wasn’t just about the chair, the comfort, the routine, it was an essential stage of life, propelling me further than it looked from the outside, even more than I could realise. In hindsight, I see how much editing there was, always striving to find a better way, a better word, a better life.
Life is a great teacher and I say thank you to all those monuments, some are still very beautiful. Am I ok with letting others go ? Well, I know how to swim, maybe I could swim better.

I was inspired to write about thresholds today after listening to the words and music on platosgroove.com it really gave my morning a kick-start, listen in.

This is the second post in response to the 5 day photo/story challenge from suedreamwalker – take a look at her Healing Wood posts.
If you want to have a go, the rules are-‘Post a photo each day for five consecutive days and attach a story to the photo. It can be fiction or non-fiction, a poem or a short paragraph and each day nominate another blogger for the challenge.

I am nominating Trini at pathsofthespirit

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Sophia Said – 1

Tree spiritLook deeply into the forest of your heart, see how much I have always cared for you.

~ ~ ~

When I was really small, I explored the secret world of my Grandmother’s garden. Crouching under the bright green shrubs it was easy to become invisible. The wonder of nature seen through my childish eyes, took on a magical quality, as if seeing the world from the inside out. I wrote the poem below many years ago to remind me that you never forget that view.

The Gap In The Hawthorn Hedge
Flower beds, climbing beans,
cabbages, crisp and clean,
the narrow ditch where nettles sting,
where snail tracks glisten like silver threads
on the pile of stones at the garden’s end.
On hands and knees I hold my breath,
gaze through the gap in the hawthorn hedge,
to the meadow,
where white horses tread,
and everywhere I look is new.
You never forget that view.

The photo above was taken this month in the woods at Tintern Abbey, Co. Wexford, a truly magical place. If you look closely, you can see the features of the tree spirit.

The poem I chose to accompany the photo is taken from  a collection of poems published in 2012 as ‘Murmurings’, in memory of a dear friend and fellow poet.

This is in response to the 5 day photo/story challenge I received from Sue at suedreamwalker.  I hope I manage to complete the task as she did with her beautiful Healing Wood posts. Thank you sue.

My first nomination today is Sirena Tales,  her truly wonderful blog posts always inspire.

Here are the rules for the “Five Photos Five Stories” challenge: “Post a photo each day for five consecutive days and attach a story to the photo. It can be fiction or non-fiction, a poem or a short paragraph and each day nominate another blogger for the challenge.

Tree spirit

Look deeply into the forest of your heart, see how much I have cared for you.

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Roots And Seeds

pixie Dell tree

Sun gold drips through green tipped fingers.

Autumn whispers in falling leaves.

Creaking boughs a carpet weave.

Listen to the forest breathe.

Sophia says go out and play,

follow your imagination,

whatever you can imagine

is enough for the day.

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Half-way Up The Mast

Gotheborg Sail Training Ship 2015

Gotheborg Sail Training Ship 2015

The companionship of like-minded beings,
managing ropes, sails, decks, cleaning, maintaining,
eating, sleeping, learning,
contained in a vessel of awesome proportions.

Half-way up the mast, the view is changed,
the deck below much smaller than it seemed.
Half-way up the mast, sea, sky, wind,
a single mind, a new perspective.

 Photo courtesy of Richard Sibley tallshipsgallery.co.uk

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Corridor

Corridor 2

Through my open study door, I can see the corridor.

The cats, Geronimo, and Tabby Cat pass by,

independent, yet needy,

they choose to occupy my territory.

The corridor leads in and out,

the smaller exit perhaps,

leading to other possibilities.

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Barefoot In The Sacred

in the sacred

Step outside the garden door,

with bare feet on cold concrete,

and after the realisation that it’s not so bad,
you can bear it,
move on to the dew wet morning grass,
to the uncut patch,
where the secret life within grounds you
to the heart of your heart,
to the world heart,
to the one sacred whole where you know yourself in everything,
where everything has it’s peace,
and even inanimate objects
find their rest in the sacred.

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Wind Of Change

In this wind,
Estuary waves crash like surfers on the sand.
What news do they bring from far-away lands

(from my notebook – May 13th)

beach notes 13th may '15

beach notes 2 & sketchI’m sitting on a rock below the Power’s place where tumbled rocks, heaped upon each other, stay the land-slip for a while. A fallen tree branch lies horizontal, fresh green sprouting to the sun.

Something stirs in my heart. I seek its message.

Be like a rock, it says. This wind brings change. Build solid foundations. Let roots settle, contained in fertile ground to flower as all things should.

Wind-swept clouds streak like feathers across the sky.

Oyster shells gleam like little silver plates. The tide rushes in.

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Listen

Untitled-TrueColor-01 heart cut

Wind dashing over hawthorn bushes.
Sea-smacks on the rocks below the cliff.
The hum of engines trawling the mist like a lost soul,
seeking home.

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Field Notes By The Sea

 

Listen with the sea, curling over rocks,

Field notes for MN1

oyster, laid open with razor, and clusters of pink and bone white shells.

field notes for MN2

Listen with the Gulls, see them swiftly rise and fall, hear their call of freedom over footprints.

field notes for MN3

 

Sit upon a warming rock,

field notes for MN4

 listen to the tide, fill your spirit with the  lullaby,

 the heaving sigh.

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