“And as I drifted over the snowy mountain ranges and the great forests and the mighty oceans I dared to follow other thoughts that have been accumulating for an eternity, sculpted by winds blowing from the past…”
Lost in time lapse thought. Careful not to linger too long . Best follow the dog back to the moment, doing what dogs do best.
I wonderful and brutally honest trip through the universe and back again.
Take some pictures of those dog snow angels. They are really hard to capture. Not that I’m able to show you , I have one particular stand out from one of our dog family members who now lives only in our hearts. A perfect snow angel. A keeper.
Speaking of a keeper. I posted this under your dog’s photo awhile ago. I thought it worth sending again in case you didn’t see. My sister sent this to me, really, I think it belongs to you and your dog. You know the picture.
Mary Oliver-The Storm (Bear)
Now through the white orchard my little dog romps, breaking the new snow with wild feet. Running here running there, excited, hardly able to stop, he leaps, he spins until the white snow is written upon in large, exuberant letters, a long sentence, expressing the pleasures of the body in this world.
I didn’t catch that posting, so I’m so glad you’ve reposted here. Such a beautiful portrayal of a dog’s enthusiasm for snow. I love the last line. Thanks!
In a way, this reminded me of 'Ishmael' - and how he describes our history as societies of takers and givers. I hope the days of the takers is on the wane, but it's going to take a lot more of us opening our eyes in the way you describe. Until then, vampire capitalism and its exploitation of everything we see will continue.
"only an accidental madness of lions heads on their facades silently roaring out the reality of their carnivorous personalities"
"I see people not yet torn from the world, but unified with the flow of the mysterious rhythms of our Mother Earth."
Jonathan, That was really first rate, from your opening line to the end, you carried a very tricky concept from inception to completion. I don't know where your writing should be published for a wider audience but it is excellent. See you on Sunday. thanks. Wes
Ferrous rust ‘clones above thunder heads that roll on horizons! Eyes that see the pulsations plummet up and down Charybdis sucking siphon. Deep rhythmic walking with your dog and devil angels repeated with precision. Catapults hurl satyrical bolts Thors lightning strikes ears that hear (maybe) the moss covered sounds of deafness .
Every step on sand toes garb another grain of sensitive seas frothing foam. The rhythmic rhythm tickles my soles. Then return to times Cambrian , ferns silent as fossils. Eyes open and see there are choices to be made. History repeats. Know that to be true as your words.
There is so much to be concerned about, and yet the usual lists and journalistic summaries never seem to capture the agony. Somehow poetic prose hits the mark in an intuitive way that reaches people I think.
Thank you so much Wendy, for reading and commenting.
“And as I drifted over the snowy mountain ranges and the great forests and the mighty oceans I dared to follow other thoughts that have been accumulating for an eternity, sculpted by winds blowing from the past…”
Lost in time lapse thought. Careful not to linger too long . Best follow the dog back to the moment, doing what dogs do best.
I wonderful and brutally honest trip through the universe and back again.
Yep. The dog and I should make some snow angels and live in the moment :) or I should. He’s already there.
Thanks so much for your comment Lor. I appreciate it so much.
Take some pictures of those dog snow angels. They are really hard to capture. Not that I’m able to show you , I have one particular stand out from one of our dog family members who now lives only in our hearts. A perfect snow angel. A keeper.
Speaking of a keeper. I posted this under your dog’s photo awhile ago. I thought it worth sending again in case you didn’t see. My sister sent this to me, really, I think it belongs to you and your dog. You know the picture.
Mary Oliver-The Storm (Bear)
Now through the white orchard my little dog romps, breaking the new snow with wild feet. Running here running there, excited, hardly able to stop, he leaps, he spins until the white snow is written upon in large, exuberant letters, a long sentence, expressing the pleasures of the body in this world.
Oh, I could not have said it better myself.
I didn’t catch that posting, so I’m so glad you’ve reposted here. Such a beautiful portrayal of a dog’s enthusiasm for snow. I love the last line. Thanks!
I’ll do that. Great idea. Love the idea of having a snow angel as a keepsake. Glad you’ve got that Lor.
In a way, this reminded me of 'Ishmael' - and how he describes our history as societies of takers and givers. I hope the days of the takers is on the wane, but it's going to take a lot more of us opening our eyes in the way you describe. Until then, vampire capitalism and its exploitation of everything we see will continue.
Yep. We’re stuck in the treacle of inevitability alright. Some beautiful sights on the way though :)
"only an accidental madness of lions heads on their facades silently roaring out the reality of their carnivorous personalities"
"I see people not yet torn from the world, but unified with the flow of the mysterious rhythms of our Mother Earth."
Jonathan, That was really first rate, from your opening line to the end, you carried a very tricky concept from inception to completion. I don't know where your writing should be published for a wider audience but it is excellent. See you on Sunday. thanks. Wes
That’s such a kind and generous comment Wes, thank you 🙏🏼
Mexico looks good :)
Ferrous rust ‘clones above thunder heads that roll on horizons! Eyes that see the pulsations plummet up and down Charybdis sucking siphon. Deep rhythmic walking with your dog and devil angels repeated with precision. Catapults hurl satyrical bolts Thors lightning strikes ears that hear (maybe) the moss covered sounds of deafness .
Every step on sand toes garb another grain of sensitive seas frothing foam. The rhythmic rhythm tickles my soles. Then return to times Cambrian , ferns silent as fossils. Eyes open and see there are choices to be made. History repeats. Know that to be true as your words.
Enjoyed the stroll.
Loved the stroll through your comment too, Richard.
Does history repeat if you change the parameters? Who knows. Thanks so much for reading .
Yes history repeats but larger parameters point in different directions that people fail to see there algorithm.
Excellent! What magical and mystical writing this . You take the reader on a lyrical journey. Thank you.
Oh my, this touched my heart so deeply; your words spoke so eloquently to the wrath that is bubbling inside me. Thank you 🙏
There is so much to be concerned about, and yet the usual lists and journalistic summaries never seem to capture the agony. Somehow poetic prose hits the mark in an intuitive way that reaches people I think.
Thank you so much Wendy, for reading and commenting.
Yes, I find myself writing more that way. And, you’re welcome 😊
That’s such a kind and generous comment Wes, thank you 🙏🏼
Mexico looks good :)
You are so very welcome Stanley :)
Thank you so much for finding me and connecting Jonathan. You feel kindred, I am bookmarking this for my evening read! 💜