Birch Bones

birch bones 2 birch bones 3

Birch Bones

Scattered birch bones about the way…

Classics bellow below.

Sometimes I talk to the angels.

They appear as dust on the rays of the sun.

‘No, no, sweetheart your pilgrimage has just begun.’

And, though, my footing grabs at my destiny…

Strangely, strange, it is the wilderness that sets my spirit free.

A dare, one would say.

As the winged mystique call those that wander to the way…

And, though the hike runs on empty.

The serenity symphony tempts and provokes me.

The eyes of forest know…

I do not see all there is…

to see…

all there is to know.

birch bones 1

Shadow’s Harm

Careless Shadows

Mother Nature has gone from global warming to a hot flash
Mother Nature has gone from global warming to a hot flash

Did you say…that

you didn’t know

Soon after the overdrawn winter…

Before the summer’s baneful glow.

Are we not the same

Did the news report a day without…

unneeded rain.

Have the skies gone aglow

Neon yellows and cosmic greens

Our shadow’s harm,

watch it go, watch it go, watch it go.

Whether or not in fanaticism

Possibly in a good-bye wave of discontent

Mother is on a ravenous tangent.

These hints

These clues to lunacy and

ignorant bliss…

Knee-jerk disasters blatantly missed.

Between the stars and the middle class

Present is past, yesterday is tomorrow

No matter, the gift is fading fast.

‘Not quite right’ heard someone say

Half a continent wasted away.

Tepid places burdened in snow

New species of unknown origin

Dabbling in the science of things we don’t know.

Keeping Beauty Alive

 Leaving one door open should not mean we have to close the doors of the past.

Leaving one door open should not mean we have to close the doors of the past.

Hate seems to be the message of the day. An aging planet to which we continue to trash. There is an air of ‘more’…to which there will be far less. Far less love for one another. Far less respect for what we share. Far less respect for how we may differ. Our past is threatening to walk away from us…And, in ending, will turn her back and say,
‘On everyday, of every hour…I have told you that if you are not careful…you will not only be condemned to repeat the horrors of the past. You will, after all, be the very reason the present will be less and less precious. Always embrace the precious present!’

-randomwordbyruth

George Carlin’s wife died early in 2008 and George followed her, dying in July 2008. It is ironic George Carlin – comedian of the 70’s and 80’s – could write something so very eloquent and so very appropriate. An observation by George Carlin:
The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers, wider Freeways, but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less, we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet more problems, more medicine, but less wellness.
We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom.
We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often.
We’ve learned how to make a living, but not a life. We’ve added years to life not life to years. We’ve been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer space but not inner space. We’ve done larger things, but not better things.
We’ve cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We’ve conquered the atom, but not our prejudice. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We’ve learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less and less.
These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and small character, steep profits and shallow relationships. These are the days of two incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill. It is a time when there is much in the showroom window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just hit delete.
Remember to spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not going to be around forever.
Remember, say a kind word to someone who looks up to you in awe, because that little person soon will grow up and leave your side.
Remember, to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that is the only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn’t cost a cent.
Remember, to say, ‘I love you’ to your partner and your loved ones, but most of all mean it. A kiss and an embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of you.
Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person will not be there again.
Give time to love, give time to speak! And give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind.
And always remember, life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by those moments that take our breath away.
George Carlin

Know One to Preach

My vacant village…more vacant than before

Tattered, elicit affairs lay at St. Gabriel’s altar

All the residents have wrapped up testaments into a crumpled yellowed newspaper, and gone home

Golden saviors, cloaked and free of fear, are unabated…akin to flea market trinkets…nothing but grab bags of unidentified…barren bones

Diamond crusted good Samaritans with chips on their robes seem to walk the same streets as forgotten servants. Each and everyone…lost from their thrones.

Not one left to preach

Know one to preach

No one left to dictate the streets that are lone.

the Grove…still

the Grove...still
the Grove…still

The Grove…still

The grove with petal pushers

and

grassy Capri

ancient elms

and

misguided spruce trees.

The grove with Renoir daffodils

and

lazy storms up over the hill

The grove…

a thoroughfare through nature’s window sill.

Learning cricket still,

being cricket still.

the Grove...still
the Grove…still

the Grove...still
the Grove…still