Everyday the old man would walk through the town’s side streets, fields, and woods, stuffing things in his pockets. In each pocket, a world: Smooth stones and grey clouds. Sparkling stars and dying flowers. Spiders and moon-glow.
When he ran out of pockets to fill, he would go home and empty the contents out onto the floor, staring in child-like wonder at the treasures he had found. The simple things most people are too busy to notice.
contain hidden treasure
She is quiet by nature. Her words are few. It takes a courage she doesn’t possess for her to reveal her inner thoughts. But what her words can’t say, she expresses with a look, a touch, or gesture.
in a small ocean
She enters a semi darkened room where the child is sleeping. Gently, she bends down to kiss his forehead. It is time for farewells, a parting of ways for a while.
the brave knight
behind castle walls
With closed eyes the child hears her enter the room. He knows she has come to say goodbye. He smells her perfume and then feels a kiss, as light as an angel’s sigh, on his forehead. He wants to be brave and say goodbye, but he knows his tiny heart would break if he sees her face. She, my mother, pauses for a moment at the door, and I feign sleep until she’s gone.
Take four words from the words below and write a poem using each four words that you picked. The poem can be long or short, it doesn’t matter as long as the four words you picked are in the poem.(borrowed from Sandford Lynn).
Pick which words resonate with you.
Is time an illusion?
“The only reason for time is so that everything doesn’t happen at once.”
The distinction between past, present, and future is an illusion is my interpretation of Einstein’s quote.
Time is also relative.
For one person in prison, the day can seem to last an eternity. For a person who is with a loved one having the “time” of his life, time goes fast, or more accurately, it stops. There is no sense of time. But later only when they think about, it seemed the day went fast. But where is time if you stop thinking about it?
And, can one person’s past be someone else’s present which can be someone else’s future?
Three people are on a very long ship at sea with each three at different spots on the ship. One in the front, one in the middle, and the third at the back. A dolphin swims by. The one in the front spots the dolphin, then it’s gone. Then the person in the middle spots it swimming by, then it’s gone. Finally the third person spots the dolphin. For the first person his past is the dolphin after it passed, which is the middle man’s present(as he’s seeing the dolphin). And then the same for the last man. Happening at the same time? Relative?. Only in the perspective of each person. It happened in each of the three persons now.
These ideas of time and how it’s so relative are interesting. The science–especially quantum physics are interesting, but on a personal level (and the point of this blog) is I believe time is a man-made construct.
In a time before the calendar where was time?
How can time exist–except in our minds?
What is tomorrow but a thought of tomorrow? Tomorrow, like yesterday, doesn’t exist. This might sound new agey, but only now exists. Like that couple in love, there is only now.
Now and now and now, over and over again.
Think about tomorrow…when is that thought taking place? Now. By the time you think it it’s already gone.
Think about yesterday..same thing.
Tomorrow is a thought. Yesterday is a thought. Where is time in this eternal present?
I think Einstein was right about the purpose of time. I think that quote hints at the psychological man made nature of time.
It’s interesting. I think direct experience is the truth, and like basic truths, it is paradoxical. There is only now..but yet my body ages(or does it? Every seven years I have a brand new body, all new cells). But does presence age? Bodies, ideas, beliefs change, but do you(beyond time–awareness) age?
Anyone got the time?
I am very much a night owl.
My brain really starts to get clear as soon the sun goes down(it’s foggy in early hours and basically all day, probably due to getting up early, at least that’s what I blame my absentmindedness on).
Nighttime, though, my brain switches to hyper clarity mode. Maybe it’s the feeling of calm that the dark and quiet brings. The neighborhood is asleep and everything is veiled in a black cloak. You can almost breathe in the atmosphere.
For whatever reason I feel like I can accomplish anything at night..thoughts quiet down when writing or whatever–but when I need to sleep they speed up.
So, yea, I am most productive at night. Unfortunately, my late nights are restricted to the weekend as I have to be up at the ungodly and inhumane hour of 4am everyday.
My inner vampire is grouchy when he has to get up early
From the weekly photo challenge. Share a photo that means “on top.”
Above pic, the daytime moon is resting on top of some branches from trees in my yard.
This moon is a lazy sort! Here I caught him just about to rest on top of one of my telephone wires. But maybe I shouldn’t be so harsh. After all, the moon has to provide romantic moonglow for starry-eyed lovers all over the world. And serving as the never ending inspiration for those demanding poets? No wonder the poor moon is tired.
“The moon in all her immaculate purity hung in the sky, laughing at this world of dust. She congratulated me for my carefully considered maneuvers and invited me to share in her eternal solitude.”
Pick something that has no “voice” and let it speak through you.
Meaning, during your day, let something grab your attention, something that cannot voice words as we do: a bird, a pole, a cup, a rock, a building, etc.
If that thing could talk what would it say? If it has an “aliveness” to it what is that like? Explain what you think it sees everyday…what impressions it feels..and so on..
Pic is optional but I really hope to be able to post one. If I can get this app thingie working, that is!
Here’s mine(pic to be posted later..hopefully).
A tree I see every day.
I can’t think but I sense and “feel.”
I hear bird songs.
I feel the rain, changes in temperature.
My leaves dance in the breeze and this delights me. I am saddened when leaves fall in the autumn, joyous when new ones return in the spring.
At night, when it’s quiet,
I sense the stars and moon above me.
They are an eternity away but I feel as much a connection with them as my roots do from the earth below.
Most people walk past and never notice me. A few people do–and I delight in being noticed and appreciated by those few.
I am rooted in stillness, but I am alive and growing and changing-everyday, much as you are. I am energy in form, same as you, and one day my form disappear from this earth.