Steel, Brick, Flower, Petal: Photography by Noelle
I squeeze through cracks
Social constraints like mortar
Tight against the brick
Growth of roots comes with ardor
Bits expressed
The tenacity of a weed
Dandelion colors
That turn into seed
Steel and stone
Blood and bone
I am earth and sky
Meant to fly
Come closer
I offer more than a glimpse
I am fuller than light across the sill
Let me take your breath away with my vastness
I do not fear you looking in
Seeing my bent tree and cracked stone
On balance I am the grand view not the lone pebble.
Re-posted from Collective Evolution Facebook page
Cracked open
Human seed exposed
Germinating in decay
Rotted trunk gardens
Brewing organisms in deathbeds
Steeped in sun and water
Igniting delicious
Hunger for
Life
Anew
Re-posted from Enchanted Nature Facebook page
I woke to new snow
A slivered moon
And a low sun
Breathing in mountain pose
The gift of life
Fills my lungs
Really look deep. Take in the red and let it sink into your root chakra – fire. Allow the rich azure to settle upon you a royal crown. Draw the green into your heart on each breath and know your majesty. Feel the color filling you up, the coolest draught. Drink yourself drunk on the beauty. Now settle down. Sink your feet like tree roots into the earth. Go down, deep and dark into the fertile soil until you hit the molten core. You are exactly where you are meant to be. Breathing in the earth and breathing out love. There is a a pulse as deep in the earth as in you, waiting for you to lay your hand upon it.
Winding road
Hugging the river
Water pipes and
Briar thatches
In love with the
Autumn sun
Quite some time passes when I am in the company of a tree I feel I know. Some I do, as in I have grown up with them or pass them often on my walks. We have that familiarity of time and company. Others simply stop me because I KNOW them, deep at the center of me. Maybe they feel the same. A sense of deep woodiness at the center of their being about me. I walk among them, along creek beds and down into the marsh, running my hands on their bark. Rough and rutted I scratch my back like a bear. I understand Muir’s passion to protect them. I, too, find it hard to return home. The company they offer runs as rich and deep as their roots.
Ancient the stone that cracks to slip my spirit free into an open sky.
Free Bing photos
Early, before the sun is up. Breakfast half eaten against the back drop of autos heading into the city. I hear them yelping between the motors in the nearby field. The night was cold for summer, giving rise for them to howl for autumn.
I am pressed and clean for the day ahead, but their barks call to my wildness beneath the suit. All these routines and order, economies, mortgages and regulations. I stand at the window and listen. My heart beats faster with the next call and I realize it is not order I am hungry for, but the feel of dirt and the grass beneath my feet. To run and howl with abandon with my kin.
Alas, a deep final breath at the sill, as I turn from the window, checking my coyote spirit as I head for the door.
Bear Creek Lake: Photo by Noelle
Bear Creek Lake: Photo by Noelle
Bear Creek Lake: Photo by Noelle
And the end of the day was upon me, yet still I waited in the field. So many moments allowed to pass without reverence or awe. What life have I been living, to have slept so long?
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