Life can be like
a paint palette
that fell to the floor,
where all the colors
are separate but bleed
into each other,
creating a maelstrom
of chaos that is both
beautiful and frustrating…
Life can be like
a paint palette
that fell to the floor,
where all the colors
are separate but bleed
into each other,
creating a maelstrom
of chaos that is both
beautiful and frustrating…
Life has a certain
rhythm
An ebb and flow to
it all.
Just quiet down and
listen
You will surely hear
the call.
Between the passing
ripples
Upon the cresting
barrage
Above the noisy
racket
Beneath the quiet
facade.
There you will find life
waiting.
Waiting to be lived…
Photo Source
There are moments
when life seems
surreal,
and I
am merely
a passenger. Continue reading There are moments…
Too much of my life
Is spent worrying about Continue reading Missing The Now…
Life is way to short
Live today like it’s your last
Die with no regrets.
***
Originally written Jan. 22, 2010
Not all of us live,
That’s for sure.
But we all shall die.
***
The sun rose up over the edge of the earth
Warming the ground as it signaled new birth
Warmth grows quickly in the new mornings fire
As a single rose stretches forth with awakened desire
Noon time approached and the rain showered down
While the rose did grow, erupting from the brown
And blossoms did bloom on the side of the blae
As fragrances flourished in the midst of the day
The sun headed westward and neared the edge
Saying goodnight as it passed o’er the ledge
And darkness descended, and the earth did quiver
As the rose was embraced by a cold evening shiver
With the sun now gone as night takes hold
The world is draped in a covering of cold
The rose loses strength, it’s stalk does tilt
And death takes hold as it starts to wilt.