My muse speaks in muffled tones, a susurrus of inspiration – too bad I am hard of hearing. (Tuesdays are for Twitter. Find me @Vjknutson.)
Tag: inspiration
Fluttering
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
Creating
Winter – the colour of my hair, a sedentary state of being, the numbing over of ambitions… These are but illusions… I am fluid, essence
A Sail Called Hope
Sail erected, call it ‘Hope’ Location dialed in Saboteurs asleep Done with party persona, inalterable generalities Ready to cater to the awake Willing to believe
On Nature
How is it that a tree can stir my soul, so? Yet, set amongst the Douglas firs – an orchestra of giants, the reassurance of
Tree Wisdom
Rooted in the earth, ever reaching for the sky – speaking nature’s truth.
