Nature leaves her fingerprint
on this land; River pushes on,
her perseverance a reminder
that all is flow, and what feels
like an ending, is indeed
just a passage in time:
Carry on.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own)
Nature leaves her fingerprint
on this land; River pushes on,
her perseverance a reminder
that all is flow, and what feels
like an ending, is indeed
just a passage in time:
Carry on.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own)
Service contentment
Be a vessel –
giving and receiving
Create ripples
Inspire
Be present
Push through limits
Be bliss spreading
viral joy
(I’ve started a new project: reading through old journals – mostly griping – to find new messages, new poetry.
This is my first result. Image my own.)
Empty spaces hold
wonder, I drop emotion
focus on present
open mind to mystical –
creativity takes flight.
(Written for Eugi Causerie’s weekly challenge: mystical. Image my own.)
Happiness worship
an unmonitored highway –
numinous moments
catalyst for earthbound soul –
church impulses, breathe spirit.
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter. This poem is in the form of tanka. Image my own.)
If they call you vermin
show them moxie
no explanation needed
Best path is paved
with honesty, avoid
potholes of popularity
Authentic self
travels further
without camouflage.
(Image from personal collection.)
My mind is ablaze –
ideas churning
vying for recognition –
greed is ego’s bane
hogs the spotlight
but other thoughts stir
gentler, more insightful –
will remain in shadow
till a quorum empowers
artful expression.
(This poem is from Twitter @Vjknutson. I’m linking it up with Reena’s Exploration challenge which is the featured image. Photo credit: Daniel Salmieri.)
Oh, this symphony,
this magnetic resonance –
my brain is on fire,
a duende spiralling
mystical discovery.
(Ragtag Community’s daily prompt is duende. I am also linking up to Reena’s Exploration challenge #111, in which the linked video is the prompt. Credit to Aeon.com. Photo from personal collection.)
My muse speaks in muffled tones,
a susurrus of inspiration – too bad
I am hard of hearing.
(Tuesdays are for Twitter. Find me @Vjknutson.)
Somewhere inside,
beneath the noise
of to do’s, or regrets,
buried so deep,
that I disbelieve
it exists, and yet…
there it is –
pulsating in sleep,
disrupting idle moments –
a hum, a breeze, a niggling,
as if I’ve trapped passion,
like a firefly, jarred it
in some inner cellar…
and still, it glows –
begs for the light of day,
a slit in consciousness
through which to escape –
inspiration demanding
expression.
Winter –
the colour of my hair,
a sedentary state of being,
the numbing over of ambitions…
These are but illusions…
I am fluid,
essence flowing,
passion undaunted,
creating.