River Song

Tonight we sleep under velvet skies
As we count the days since the caravans have departed in winter’s wake
I find the beloved in a hundred murid images
The clues hiding deep in these crossed roads of a poet’s second-hand notebook.

For those of us left behind to finish with this wayward stroll
The milkiest way is full of light from Andromida’s way star bright
With nights of Blue Moon, Cowboy Junkies, and Sweet Jane
Least we forget the rain, the sky and the Hawk from on high.

Steel on steel will make the rails sing
But tonight my song is for the river the Lakota call Wakan Tanka
Take me into your murky debts amongst the sunken cypress logs
And renew me in the pure water of southern rain.

With great respect and warmth, we bid the day adieu’
May our dreams ever fall true for another nights review
And with my eyes ever-smiling across the waters wide
It’s good to ride the river with you tonight.

©jc2020-9

Image by Pixabay

Old October

As the high heat of August crawls not so inconspicuously by, we see the waywardness that is September inching ever so slowly towards an unknown destination. Month by month, day by day we are the ritual that inevitably brings us to October… the season of change and renewal. Continue reading Old October

Natures Truth

It’s said that the Angels on high are joyously whenever someone turns their back on the everyday life. That‘s the journey, as Van Morrison sang, “From the dark end of the street to the bright side of the road”. The signs along this path are the inkling of a universe wanting to speak to us. Every turn is a lesson, the winking of an eye, which is contemplated only by those who stay young at heart. Continue reading Natures Truth

The Starry, Starry Night, Van Gogh & Parkinsons.

Science looks to find the connection between Parkinson’s and Creativity

If you hear a voice within you say ‘you cannot paint,’ then by all means paint and that voice will be silenced. -Vincent Van Gogh Continue reading The Starry, Starry Night, Van Gogh & Parkinsons.

Febuary

There are moments in time when we try to reassemble life’s rich pageant; assigning the pieces as neatly and securely as we can into a box of our own subjective thinking; a box that hasn’t any room for fresh interpretation. The analysis is so in sync with the cerebral brain that we fail to sit back and enjoy the epiphanies that are present especially when the pieces of this puzzle seem not to fit as we think they should…if our narrative comes together, we call it a miracle, if not we’re disgruntled. We tend not to appreciate that in the perforations of this chaos there are considerations waiting for our attention. It is only when we trip into overload from this temporal way of thinking, thus spilling forth into the mysteries, do we expand our thoughts into the universe of a higher understanding. It is then, I come to realize that what I don’t know is more than I thought I knew and I’ll never know it all. Thus, I stand blessed and open to all there is on the road of perception raining down in the pale moonlight. the riverThis is mindfulness at its best, waiting to hand you something you didn’t have an inkling you were in need of.

©jc2018-9

*Images by Pixabay

Bliss

blissFind something, anything, which is so encompassing that in a given block of time it enthralls you to get lost together in unconsciousness. Such things are beyond space and time, it is bliss and one only questions the indignities of why when not doing this transcendent work. Continue reading Bliss

If 6 were 3, I’d like to be…

If 6 were 3, I’d like to be all the things that you will see, if 6 were 3. Continue reading If 6 were 3, I’d like to be…