Smiles for our departure
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Black Desert Birds- Compiled Poems from family and friends!
Christie's beginning thought- add to it if you want!
A somber curtsy to the black desert birds
Constantly rummaging for a tiny scrap
Skinny with tattered feathers-
Dried up from the sun and dirt
Mislead by the skies freedom,
An existence fated to struggle
My father's positive spin;
Yet there may come a day when burdened wings are uplifted.
For the eternal wind blows with a conscience stream, and will not remain silent forever.
Eli's mind;
There is no other because the word "I" doesn't exist.
So the world struggled with them turning scraps into banquets.
A sky which once mocked their aerial slavery- now can't contain their dreams.
Pondering infinity, staring down their beak like a telescope of truth
Dad's 2nd go;
Alas, these lofty thoughts were only a dream, for when the birds awoke their pain was real. But somehow they took comfort in the familiarness of their collective misery, for to follow their intuition, to remove the "eye" would mean flying blindly on faith. And the uncertainties of such a proposition scared them more then starving to death. So they fought each other over the morning trash scraps the way they had for as long as they could remember
Lydia's flair;
Their magic is hidden under desert ash,
Tomorrow will find the moment has passed.
Freedom of birds is measured in now,
Each moment passing without knowing how.
Tara's goodness;
I'm paralyzed by what I don't know
of these birds
just as I'm paralyzed by what I can't know
of death.
The picture is all I know
of these creatures who may or may
not still be.
Their moment is frozen for us
to view so that we may view
our lives more clearly.
I'm paralyzed by what I know
of these birds just as I'm paralyzed
by what I know of life.
Lisa's heart;
Phoenix without the fire.
Unbowed in the heat.
Feet planted firmly and determined heart lifted to the sun.
Crowing defiantly, triumphantly: "I AM!" "I AM!" "I AM!"
A somber curtsy to the black desert birds
Constantly rummaging for a tiny scrap
Skinny with tattered feathers-
Dried up from the sun and dirt
Mislead by the skies freedom,
An existence fated to struggle
My father's positive spin;
Yet there may come a day when burdened wings are uplifted.
For the eternal wind blows with a conscience stream, and will not remain silent forever.
Eli's mind;
There is no other because the word "I" doesn't exist.
So the world struggled with them turning scraps into banquets.
A sky which once mocked their aerial slavery- now can't contain their dreams.
Pondering infinity, staring down their beak like a telescope of truth
Dad's 2nd go;
Alas, these lofty thoughts were only a dream, for when the birds awoke their pain was real. But somehow they took comfort in the familiarness of their collective misery, for to follow their intuition, to remove the "eye" would mean flying blindly on faith. And the uncertainties of such a proposition scared them more then starving to death. So they fought each other over the morning trash scraps the way they had for as long as they could remember
Lydia's flair;
Their magic is hidden under desert ash,
Tomorrow will find the moment has passed.
Freedom of birds is measured in now,
Each moment passing without knowing how.
Tara's goodness;
I'm paralyzed by what I don't know
of these birds
just as I'm paralyzed by what I can't know
of death.
The picture is all I know
of these creatures who may or may
not still be.
Their moment is frozen for us
to view so that we may view
our lives more clearly.
I'm paralyzed by what I know
of these birds just as I'm paralyzed
by what I know of life.
Lisa's heart;
Phoenix without the fire.
Unbowed in the heat.
Feet planted firmly and determined heart lifted to the sun.
Crowing defiantly, triumphantly: "I AM!" "I AM!" "I AM!"
Pennsylvania Love- refreshed for the journey
I want to eat this
 |
| To touch a purple flower The juice of fresh lemons A grass quilt of three leaf clovers and pinecones The confident stroll of a skunk family- Ownership swinging from each tail Forgotten trees huddle like tribes in the forest Tongues lick plump raindrops, While birds rebuild their nests Limbs of Pennsylvania tangled in farms, tree canopies and creeks |
 |
| Christie and the family back together |
 |
| My father's garden My soul, my soul- Clings to the clouds Steals glances at the stars Burns eternally like the sun A hammock amongst oak Shadowing my every step Being one step at a time Creating the steps of my existence Death- rebirth, a torch that burns on A shoestring double knotted and then untied The desire to express itself In rhythm with a sprinkler- The sounds of the sea |
 |
| There’s love in the water, Droplets of glue Puzzles put together, beautiful and anew Closets to cling to memories Pockets full of earth One holy sip- The songs of the cicadas Droplets of delight A taste of magic to cradle the soul |
Durango Fun 2009
Piedra River and hot springs will always have a piece of my heart.
 |
| Eli and Christie relaxing in a hot spring |
 |
| Eli and Mitch enjoying the air |
 |
| Can you find Christie meditating by the river? I BOW to you in the dim light I dance Around your fire I tiptoe on Your moss covered river rocks -Colors Deep forest green Fluorescent yellow And Rusted orange My incense smoke Swirls in your Vastness I BOW to you as Stillness fills my being I BOW- to you….. |
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
