Wanderlust

View if the bolin creek.
Riverbend
Waters edge
Adventure time
Treescape
Nature love
Tree love
Flower power
Daffodil
Smile

Ode to chang

Ode to chang

Change can be scary.
It is hardly ever soft.
Sometimes cange is louder and abrasive.
Other times change is quiet and sneaky.
Yet in the end change is just another aspect of life. Embedded in our fabric of evolution.
Change is growth. The seed of life before she becomes a flower. The wilting petal before she becomes the earth.

Change is beyond our grasp of control…
A force of the universe compelling us forward.
Hurdling us through space and time … the ride of a lifetime.
Still despite its inevitability we still fight its presence.
Suppressing the evolution of its nature. Denying her existence in order to preserve memories of the past.
The life of a seed, a time long since gone denying her true potential.

Why fight against the tide?
Why struggle and drown… suffocating the breath of evolution.
Embracing growth that is life.
Nurturing the soul that is existance.
Preserving that which can build us forward well releasing that which no longer serves us.
Change does not have to be a monster it can be sweet and comforting but only if you deny not her existence and embrace what she has to give.

Flower Power

Walking Amongst Magick

I took a walk today to clear my mind. Sometimes I love to just go out an wonder about, nature. Below is a compilation of pictures I snagged on my adventure along with a few poems.

Enjoy the Magick

Run.

Residual resin.

Raw renewed rigor.

Rampaging reverent for revenge.

Renewed Retaliation Reaching def ears.

Rain rejuvenates false hope rendering remorse.

Religion sparks Roaring righteously retaliation.

Reason renounced leaving false retribution.

Rein of power Remains.

Restraints rusted red.

Resurrecting hope.

Respect.

New Perspective

“Among the weeds.

Perspective is askew.

Enjoy the view.”

River of the universe

The winding path reveals many mysteries.

Minds enticed by entertaining fantasies.

River of the universe.

Time seems meaningless.

Wondering soul.

Alone.

American dream:

No one can hear you scream.

Within the moon beam.

The high beam.

Standing upstream.

Or Mainstream.

The musical theme, of the American dream.

 

Lullaby daydream. Radioactive beam melts your ice cream.

Scream baby scream.

Some perverts wet dream.

Pile up the whipping cream.

Face cream.

Cone that American dream.

 

Coin that dream.

Ion beam the laser beam.

Star stream… scar of the American dream.

Scream baby scream.

Dream of the dream.

Taste the ice cream.

 

Sweet peach cream.

The one true team.

That true American dream.

Scream baby scream.

And it may seem… and surly be deemed.

To be mean at the cost of another is that that of the extreme or an act of low self-esteem.

Guess the theme?

Waterway: Pipeline

Elements forged out of times embracing hands.

Cold and refreshing… anything but clean.

Rusted beauty bleeds out life.

Beautifully refreshing new life.

Rusted by time.

Draining away.

Forgotten.

Reminiscing over memories of a past life

Remembering that when the lights are out it is less dangerous.

Fragmented time that like rust never sleeps.

Blurred beauty beautiful brilliant bright blissful sparkles before me.

Berating breathing beings bathing painted shadows.

Caught amongst the gravity of magick.

You watched me and I you.

Universal curiosity shared between, all three.

Between darkness and light lies the grey.

Broken wings of sorrow.

Sinking in the wind.

Fly feebly through darkness.

Seeking light, straying flight.

Diverging into the grey.