Haunting.

What is it
that rises
to the subconscious..
a call, a whisper, my name
as I was then, not now…

eons ago..

Souls live on
or so it is said
while bodies wither away
like so much dust,
taking with them
all that was.

But how can that be..

for there are memories etched
in my very bones,
as surely as they are sewn
into my soul,

that ache…

that ache with a wild tempest,
a mad riot of longing,

that cry out to me..

deep within those odd moments
of pulsing vulnerability,

remember, remember…

The fortress of one’s heart.

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Its incredible how one’s needs can be so contrary from one moment to the next.

Or maybe vociferousness is not for me.

The day was warm and the park beckoned. I reached for the camera but then left it behind.

There was a need for silence. I did not want to capture an outward display of appreciation. Instead, I took it inward. I wanted it to implode within and drown me in its presence. To let it pool in the center of my being and then let it burgeon with the stillness of the woods. Tender, quiet, restful. A balm, a solace, a gathering of the wayward sinews of breath and then, a releasing.

An unraveling, a crumbling of the walls of the fortress. And then, a gentle rebuilding.

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Though, I simply could not resist taking a quick photo of this gorgeous greenness with my cell phone camera.

Choices.

Seeing birds in cages always makes me sad. Heart broken for the wee one that has only ever known the confines of a cage. Its wings bound and limited by the span of its metal bars. Its voice imprisoned by four walls.

Birds are meant to fly. To soar. To sing. To feel the wind and the sun upon their wings.

They are meant to be free, is it not?

Prison of my choice.

Bars of tree trunks, base of the earth, and the sky, the dome above me. This, my dwelling, is the cage of my choosing.

Framed.

Framed.

Flight.

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Are you ready? said the little bird.

Its going to be a wild ride!

A tremor shook its wings, a shiver ran through its hollow bones that carry the call of the wind within their narrow confines, and the trembling, ever consuming need to soar higher, ever higher…upon the wide blue expanse that seems endless…

and eternal.

Follow me! said the little bird.

Its going to be a wild ride!

Carry me with the strength in your eyes. Do not let them falter for we are partners in this wild bid for freedom. I will lend you my wings and you…you lend me the truth of my existence, of my ability to rise above all else.

You are my witness.

Yes! Yes! I promised.

And I raised him with the strength in my eyes, and the matching hungry bid in my soul, and how we soared together, until he far outstripped my strength, and I could see him no more.

I had witnessed his rising.

With him, I had surrendered.

Closing my eyes I heaved a sigh.

I was undone.

It had been a wild ride!

Falling.

What was it that I remembered

of you, and me?

I did not approach love cautiously,

nor even with a mad rush of longing.

But there it was.

All along, a knowing.

A fact. Like breathing.

I loved you.

I was in love with you.

I knew it all along

without knowing it.

What is it that I remember

of you, and me?

I remember…

falling in love.

With you.

With a you, and me.

I remember you and me.

The point is…

The point is…

The point is to write, to paint, to create, to play..

to sing..

for creating is the song of the soul.

It is a setting free of all that abides within.

The light, the joy, the love….

the hunger,

the thirst for life,

to feel it, to hold it,

living, alive,

within the palms of your hand,

and the hollow of your throat,

and softness of your gaze.

And that is what creation is, is it not?

Something living, pulsing.

Within and without.

Something that sets you free.

And what does it matter if it be good or bad…

or indifferent…

if it sets you free?

Perspective.

Oh I see it alright.

A sprawling, blinding,

unblemished white.

I must like the snow undisturbed,

unbroken.

My first step, a litany

on my lips.

Of regret.

A mad apology.

To break its serene evenness

brings my soul up short.

Until I see the edges.

Slightly muddied.

Purity

is

a matter of perspective,

no?

It was cold this night…

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Cold nights are always so wonderful to read about in books.

…’crisp’..’clear’..’brisk’..’clean’…

Within the confines of my warm room, I always want to step out into the crispiness of it all. To breathe in that cleansing cold air and breathe out those dragon puffs into the mittens of my hands. Cold tipped ears, cold tipped nose, warm cinnamony sentiments.

But without, it is such a different story.

It was cold last night. The assault was instantaneous. ‘Ere I stepped out, and there I was shrouded within the frigid folds of the night.

Stiffened bones, broken breath, burning lungs…

I was beside myself with the misery of it until I happened to look up. And there the moon cut a sickle against the night sky and glowed softly towards the star. And the lone star winked back at the moon and perhaps blushed at her own temerity. There was a softness there. A romance. Warm cinnamony sentiments.

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I kept my gaze skyward, shamelessly eavesdropping on the lovers, until the glow of their mayhap-imagined romance overwhelmed me and what warmth was mine until shelter could be found.

The Whistler.

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His pert mouth

perked.

Perked though

soft, rounded

and mayhap

to give him company

whistled

into the woolly night

of frozen hearts

and steely dreams

and mayhap

in search of

company, floated

into the cottony night

of warm hearts

and sticky dreams.

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The Whistler, Acrylics on Canvas, 12″ x 12″

The Liebster Award.

It is always always wonderful to learn that your work holds meaning for someone other than your own self. It is thrilling, exciting, encouraging…but more than that, it is very humbling. Truly.

Thank you, Leah, for this wonderful nomination! I am so very honoured! Especially coming from you whose words are so beautiful and full of life. Sensitive, raw, honest, straight from the heart. I love your work.

Kindly readers and visitors, do pay her blog, Nothing gold can stay,  a visit. You will be so glad you did.

The Liebster Award, is presented to bloggers with fewer than 200 followers as a way to help and encourage them to get their blog ‘out there’. Yaye Liebster! :)

And now to answer Leah’s questions….

1. What do you consider to be the most valuable thing you own: when you were a child/teenager/now?

I waded through quite a few thoughts in answer to this question.

My family and their love: but I do not own them. I feel privileged to share this life with them and to receive their love.

All my senses: but those are quite invaluable really. Don’t you agree?

A love of art in all its form, my education, a shelter over my head, money for sustenance…

But none of these would hold true if it weren’t for the one most valuable thing. Life.

The gift of this life is the most valuable thing I own.

2. What’s the kindest act you have ever seen done (either to/by you or another)?

Forgiveness. Our boxer, Datchoo, forgave us for leaving him in a kennel for a month when we traveled back home. I still haven’t forgiven myself.

3.If you could have had the starring role in one film already made, which movie would you pick?

Mona Lisa smile. I love Julia Roberts’ character in that movie.

4. If you could have been told one thing that you weren’t told when you were a teenager, what would you like to have heard?

Pursue the arts. But to be fair, I, myself, wasn’t aware of a creative impulse within me when I was a teenager. So this is very much in retrospect.

5. Name your favorite song.

Oooh, that’s a tough one. Really really really tough. There are SO many!!! But if I had to name only one, it would have to be

Khwabon ke parindey from Zindagi Na Milegi Dobaara.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6wDq3dZBta4

I not only love the tune and the lyrics, but also the way it is filmed. Simply Lovely!

6. If you were to get a tattoo, what would it say or what would the graphic be?

It would be a small dragonfly. They are so elegant and mysterious. They make me think of faeries and magic.

7. What was your favorite TV show when you were growing up?

Star Trek! All that space traveling stuff was simply enthralling! Fascinating! And you will laugh, but, I also loved He-Man.

By the power of the Grey Skull…I. HAVE. THE POWER!!!!! :D

8. If you could spend 15 minutes with any living person, who would it be and why?

Right now, right this minute? My parents. They live leagues away from us or rather I live away from them. I miss them.

9. Have you ever had a reoccurring dream? What was it?

Hmmm…not that I can remember….

10. When was the last time you did something for the first time? What was it?

Just last month. I had my first ‘official’ studio art show. And next month I am going to have my first solo art show. Oh yeah!! ;D

11. What do you think is the best feeling in the world?

Cliche, but without a doubt, loving and being loved.

And now, without further ado, I nominate the following blogs for this award:

Jason Forcier Art

Heidi Hjort Artwork

Pencil Notes

Expressing my vision – A photography journal

Scuffed Boots

Lolodo’s Blog

Sweet Cupcake Emporium

Indfused

Glittered Feather

Chocolate & Chaturangas

These blogs are really inspiring and fun! Please do pay them a visit.

And now, dear nominated fellow bloggers, the questions for you:

1. What is your favourite part of blogging? The writing, the posting, the photos, the creativity…all of the above?

2. What inspires you to create (write, sing, paint, sketch…)?

3. Do you have any particular goal in mind in regard to your art? If so, what is it?

4. THE one thing on your bucket list…

5. Favourite time of the day?

6. Favourite artist. What do you like about their work?

7. Dark, Milk, or White chocolate?

8. Favourite book.

9. Silence is…..

10. Dreams are…..

If you choose to accept the award, you must:

1. Link back to this post.

2. Answer the questions.

3. Nominate 10 blogs and inform them of their nomination.

Good luck and God bless.