Archive for the ‘Creative Writing’ Category
Enhanced Words
Just over a week ago, my brother of a friend, Ian Rowcliffe —a primary inspiration for Cyndie’s and my adventures in creating Wintervale Ranch— shared a link to a video his daughter, Stephanie produced. She deftly incorporated my Words on Images creations (inspired by our stay with them in Portugal) with a delightful piece of music.
Stephanie’s keen artistic senses crafted a spectacular result that is infinitely more than the sum of its parts. The experience of revisiting the piece last week resonated a variety of positive vibrations for me. I hope by watching it, you might discover something of the paradise that Ian and his family have nurtured in their Forest Garden Estate in Portugal.
Their property is a destination to be considered for travelers who share a sense of appreciation to Ian’s and our perspectives on the wonders of the world.
Re-posting the video here feels a little excessively self-aggrandized for me, but this is my blog, after all, so I guess this could be considered a fair use.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Loving
.
.
What if someone was already me and I didn’t know it
he or she could be wandering around the planet
doing what I was about to do
already being the person
I was expecting to become
someday when my demons were done
and everything I thought I thought up
was thought up some time before
in some place totally unknown
and I remained oblivious
What if no one knew they had been loved by me
because I never told
of all the years I marveled their countenance
memorizing memories of previous proximities
long after we’d both moved on
and we never would meet again
could I successfully send
my mental dancing vision to each and every soul
in such a spectacular way
it would consciously imbue
a knowing nod that it had come from who
had held their presence through
days that led to years
sometimes bringing tears
mostly filled with joy of having seen
potential as a passing time
What if we never had to decide whether something was actually true
and holier than thou wasn’t something we knew
hate, fear, and shame deserted the planet in threes
a currency of love the only legal tender in use
one that gained value and exponentially grew
when distributed freely and widely
instead of being stored in large vaults
and hoarded with other faults
those whose hearts flowed gracefully
with honest love glowing weightlessly
could heal wounds with the richness of a glance
a knowing look that says those three precious words
describing a feeling that knows no bounds
poverty would become a basic fail
to practice a universal art others hail
of truly loving everyone with our own inherent free will
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Snap
.
.
sometimes when I walk
my ankle cracks
with (snap)
every (snap)
single (snap)
step (snap)
but that isn’t
much of a surprise
given the number of times
that ankle has rolled
and swelled
an explosion of pain
a searing fire of anguish
bursting with adrenaline
from a shock
at the sudden invasion
of a disability
temporary, yes
but such a dramatic switch
from the athletic endeavor
underway for the period of time
just prior to the injury
that eventually heals
so I walk normal again
and play sports again
until it rolls again
leading to what really surprises me
after all of this
just why it is that the sound
of the joint cracking
at every single step
only happens
some of the time
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Relative Something 