left this tiny love creature at the natural entrance to the longest known cave system in the world

-mammoth cave national park

       

 freshly released into the salamander capitol of the world

 (great smoky mountians national park)

....

a symphony crept from me 

as I stitched together bird calls and discarded brick clinks

surrounded by mounds of wings 

once swept by the breeze

engulfed in a meadow of magic plants 

that when steeped cure disease

....

its a place where jaw bones rest in the river bed 

writing stories never bothered to be read

....

small steps

highlighting one elder at a time;

A friend recently shared this saying with me: 'as we inch closer to our death we begin to take smaller steps' 

While contemplating this I chose not to think of these steps as a kind of attempted delay but instead felt that as the years stack upon themselves the feet that have moved through them now know relativity, understand time and have mastered the art of savouring. 

At the moment I am in Turkey where most of the older generations hold the traditions intact and as the weeks go by and I make my rounds traveling this region I will devote my respect to these gems who have endured the joys of life through producing, selling, creating and well, just living... 

small steps 1: basket man

This man claimed to have a need for creating these wonderful baskets, said it gave him a mind of peace which would otherwise be anxious and rambling. He was proud of the fifty years spent with his wife and also lit up when his son appeared. He was my momentary idol with his patchwork pants and authentic patena... simply weaving the moments.

forecasted loneliness

dissected innocence

pinned up for display

reiterate

a space beyond

the flutter of eyelashes

holographs distract us

become architectural masters

drafters of the ornate

release the weight that matter creates

and waltz with vibrations

                         
deep jewel

rich with salty breath

ancient pillars mimic

divinity; astronomic

sanctuary compelled

by the instant

continuously dwell

in a wildcrafted crown

of passion

Temple of Apollo, Didyma, Turkey                       

the sun has no steeple in this day and age

those mysteries locked inside are eager for the peel away

call upon the harvest of flourished hybrid seeds 

in which centuries ago were planted ever so intently.

Victoria, British Columbia, Canada