In the morning light
The hoodoos rise
Bringing fire
To the canyon
The hoodoos rise
Bringing fire
To the canyon
Tag: Wordpress Photo Challenge
The weekly Wordpress Photo Challenge, sponsored by The Daily Post
The Golden Gate
Sometimes I remember
The extent of my privilege
To cross a bridge
From here to somewhere
The extent of my privilege
To cross a bridge
From here to somewhere
Other
Unfettered
Without risk
Without consequence
Without desperation
Somewhere better
To be
Somewhere different
To see
Tnorala Escape
In a land rife
With enigma and anomaly
Emu and Uluru
Kangaroo and Kata Tjuta
With enigma and anomaly
Emu and Uluru
Kangaroo and Kata Tjuta
Tnorala rises
From a wide, flat plain
Dug out by a shooting star
Which fell to earth
The Art of the Audience
Some works of art remain incomplete
Once the artist has let them go
They need the touch of the audience
Their insight and influence
A perfect day
A perfect day begins
In the pre-dawn
Anticipating the sun
In the pre-dawn
Anticipating the sun
I rise
Bring my didjeridu
To some beautiful place
And serenade the dawn
And so it begins
Sink 1
I’ve always wondered what they do at Sink 1. I only see it after working hours, after everyone else has gone home, on my rounds of the building. There’s something … creepy about it. There always was, even before the night I saw all that blood in there. Blood and some sort of, flesh.
Revealing the world beneath
Some ascribe great powers to time:
To heal
To create
To destroy
To heal
To create
To destroy
But time itself wields no might
But for agents of change
Like the workings of nature and her creatures
Footprints
A dinosaur walks a beach at ebbing tide
And leaves footprints of celebrity
Lasting hundreds of millions of years
And leaves footprints of celebrity
Lasting hundreds of millions of years
I walk a beach at ebbing tide
And leave footprints of no consequence
Washed away in just a couple of waves
A matter of scale
A tree grew to near maturity
Then whithered, died
Stripped of leaves and bark
Beside the pockmarked stone wall
Obsidian black
Beside a towering escarpment
Then whithered, died
Stripped of leaves and bark
Beside the pockmarked stone wall
Obsidian black
Beside a towering escarpment
Or is it just a sprig
An ephemeral growth
A life spanning a single desert rain
Beside a rock worn smooth
By the long dead river
Which cut a chasm wall
Aeons ago
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