Ego is a cruel master
Tag: Vancouver Island
Islands
I am this Island
In a shallow sea
Beneath the waning sun
Waves rolling by
Gently to the shore
In a shallow sea
Beneath the waning sun
Waves rolling by
Gently to the shore
The ebb tide comes
The Island transformed
Another rock
Beside the ocean
On a shoreline of nothing
But rock and sand
Between
I am the storm
I am the waves battering the shore
The wind bending the trees
I am the waves battering the shore
The wind bending the trees
I am the sun
In a merciless sky
Casting heat shimmers on the endless sand
I am the night
Starless, moonless
An impenetrably dark fortress of isolation
I am too the calm
When the air is a puff of fragrant breeze
And birdsong carries for miles
And I am the earth
Fertile and life-giving
The solid ground underfoot
And I am the light
Illuminating the deepest darkness
Connected to all that is and ever will be
No Safer Place
In the falling dusk
With the tide well out
I feel secure
In the tungsten warmth
Crackling firelight
Plays off the walls
Which shiver and creak
When the storm gusts come
With the tide well out
I feel secure
In the tungsten warmth
Crackling firelight
Plays off the walls
Which shiver and creak
When the storm gusts come
No safer place
Than a chair by the glass
Rain pelting the panes
Droplets running into lines
Refracting dying light
Journal in hand
The lamp set low
Raise my glass of red
To waves rumbling on the sand
Race the Sky
I stand
On the exposed bar of sand
Close my eyes
And listen
For the wind
And the waves
And the shutter click
Counting out the seconds
One by one by one by one
Isolation ~ Pic and a Word Challenge #114
Alone
I walk out
Onto the expanse
Of rippled sand
I walk out
Onto the expanse
Of rippled sand
The clouds
Roil and tumble above
In grandiose parade
Across azure sky
With every step
I feel a little smaller
A lone figure
Isolated on an expanding horizon
Until I stop
Breathe deeply
Breathe in all this
Glorious enormity
Vancouver Island Whirlwind
Vancouver Island Whirlwind ~ Images depicting my whirlwind writing and photography tour of Vancouver Island
Returning from Departure Bay
Like beginnings, the endings
Do not come at home
The journey is finished
When we no longer roam
There’s a point when we look back
To recall what was seen
And a little remorse
For what might have been
An Artistic Encounter With Nature
“Let me paint for you,” she said.
“Ummm, yeah. Yeah!” I stammered as what she was suggesting sank in with increasing gravity.
“Yeah! That would be awesome!”
Pix to Words 