drawn to the waters fast
rushing to my fate and
hoping to reach home a
sanctuary where
we all long to rest in the ebbing pools quiet
shores lapping on new beginnings
ripe and rank grasses waving endlessly
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Western Painted Turtle-chrysemys picta belli
like the turtle, I am
drawn to the waters fast
rushing to my fate and
hoping to reach home a
sanctuary where
we all long to rest in the ebbing pools quiet
drawn to the waters fast
rushing to my fate and
hoping to reach home a
sanctuary where
we all long to rest in the ebbing pools quiet
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Snowflakes and Thumbprints
melted to become one
different but the same
whorls and diamonds
effervescent, and soon
nothing at all
but sparkles on the ocean
photo courtesy
D.N.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Dance To Freedom
Dance to Freedom
Eighteen days to freedom
where the egoic arrogance of dictatorship
succumbed to the singing, dancing masses
marching to the chant of
"we are peaceful"
flags unfurled,
trembling like virginal offerings of a nascent Egypt
unveiled for the first time
fireworks ebullient like Aurora Borealis stroking the heavens
babies of the revolution held aloft
like the banners that floated among them
yet they bowed to pray
prayed for their future
not without a price
blood spatters rubied in the stones of Tahrir square
the pyramids of hope have opened
dance
dance your way to your future
gentle, peaceful people
dance
R-A N Feb 11, 2011
Eighteen days to freedom
where the egoic arrogance of dictatorship
succumbed to the singing, dancing masses
marching to the chant of
"we are peaceful"
flags unfurled,
trembling like virginal offerings of a nascent Egypt
unveiled for the first time
fireworks ebullient like Aurora Borealis stroking the heavens
babies of the revolution held aloft
like the banners that floated among them
yet they bowed to pray
prayed for their future
not without a price
blood spatters rubied in the stones of Tahrir square
the pyramids of hope have opened
dance
dance your way to your future
gentle, peaceful people
dance
Saturday, February 5, 2011
OH EGYPT
Oh Egypt,
Your children are awake, they cry out for freedom
antiquities are scattered and blood is flowing like jeweled rubies studded in the gravel and sand
fresh, young and real, the young ones stand with arms linked to protect you
and some would have them entombed like Tutankhamen
captured and preserved forever
marked in history for millennia and then made part of a guided tour of curiousity
and in this exhibit may I draw your attention to the people that once arose for dignity and their rights
It drew millions forth from oppression
Oh Egypt,
Feed your people and release them from bondage to walk in beauty in the sun again
We are nothing without you
Your children are awake, they cry out for freedom
antiquities are scattered and blood is flowing like jeweled rubies studded in the gravel and sand
fresh, young and real, the young ones stand with arms linked to protect you
and some would have them entombed like Tutankhamen
captured and preserved forever
marked in history for millennia and then made part of a guided tour of curiousity
and in this exhibit may I draw your attention to the people that once arose for dignity and their rights
It drew millions forth from oppression
Oh Egypt,
Feed your people and release them from bondage to walk in beauty in the sun again
We are nothing without you
Oh Egypt
R-A Neil
February 02, 2011
Monday, January 24, 2011
Sing To Me
For Mom by R.A.N.
Sing To Me
Sing to me she whispered
And I sang her life to her
Hank’s voice through crackling transistors
If you listen to a story I’ll tell you
Of a girl who once lived in this land
of girl who once was my sweetheart
she was known as the Blue Velvet Band
she strummed him through her years
carefully wrote his words down in cursive emotion
she laid her tired gaze upon me, resting her tired body
as I went through the verses and climbed the stairs of her life
up to Catherine’s cottage
Farewell to Nova Scotia, the sea-bound coast,
Let your mountains dark and dreary be.
For when I am far away on the briny ocean tossed,
Will you ever heave a sigh or a wish for me?
and Marty’s cabin
I’ve got a hundred and sixty acres full of sunshine
Got a hundred and sixty million stars above
Got an old paint hoss, I'm the guy who's boss
On the hundred and sixty acres that I love
to Gordon’s place
If you could read my mind love
what a tale my thoughts would tell
just like an old-time movie
‘bout a ghost from a wishin’ well
through the night her batons twirled her dreams
once again marching in front of the Seattle Marching Band in the PNE parade of ‘49
tiny boots and feet and dreams of glorious things to come
satin uniform shone and tassels twisted
Then babies cried and
hay was baled, horses fed and ridden to pounding hooves and heart
cows milked, barns mucked
milk separated, butter made, weeds pulled
children sprouted and tumbled on their ways
Jim’s gentle anthem, an invitation
Have I told you lately that I love you
Could I tell you once again somehow
Have I told you with all my heart and soul how I adore you
Well darling, I’m telling you now
her eyes closed and my voice quieted as I saw the veil sweep aside
and smiling faces and hands outstretched
and other voices
picked up the song
Sing To Me
Sing to me she whispered
And I sang her life to her
Hank’s voice through crackling transistors
If you listen to a story I’ll tell you
Of a girl who once lived in this land
of girl who once was my sweetheart
she was known as the Blue Velvet Band
she strummed him through her years
carefully wrote his words down in cursive emotion
she laid her tired gaze upon me, resting her tired body
as I went through the verses and climbed the stairs of her life
up to Catherine’s cottage
Farewell to Nova Scotia, the sea-bound coast,
Let your mountains dark and dreary be.
For when I am far away on the briny ocean tossed,
Will you ever heave a sigh or a wish for me?
and Marty’s cabin
I’ve got a hundred and sixty acres full of sunshine
Got a hundred and sixty million stars above
Got an old paint hoss, I'm the guy who's boss
On the hundred and sixty acres that I love
to Gordon’s place
If you could read my mind love
what a tale my thoughts would tell
just like an old-time movie
‘bout a ghost from a wishin’ well
through the night her batons twirled her dreams
once again marching in front of the Seattle Marching Band in the PNE parade of ‘49
tiny boots and feet and dreams of glorious things to come
satin uniform shone and tassels twisted
Then babies cried and
hay was baled, horses fed and ridden to pounding hooves and heart
cows milked, barns mucked
milk separated, butter made, weeds pulled
children sprouted and tumbled on their ways
Jim’s gentle anthem, an invitation
Have I told you lately that I love you
Could I tell you once again somehow
Have I told you with all my heart and soul how I adore you
Well darling, I’m telling you now
her eyes closed and my voice quieted as I saw the veil sweep aside
and smiling faces and hands outstretched
and other voices
picked up the song
R-A N Jan 24 2011
Friday, January 21, 2011
New Horizons
New Horizons
Of course, sometimes one simply has to try to understand that people are not perfect.
We are not “all the same” but we have more “in common” than not.
In fact we are all imperfect but we do have the individual choice, to lay to rest our "demons".
When we give them "air" or energy they may still "burn us".
We might then walk away and bless them as we go.
That removes the "negative energy" of the person/demon/situation, be it through presence or memory.
It is neutralized and is an opportunity to practise awareness, compassion and forgiveness.
To shelter oneself from fire or storm is good "self care", which opens the door to become who we truly are, irrespective of external circumstances.
Step out of the "shadows" of powerful, dysfunctional ego presence and "fly" to freedom.
Seek release from tyranny...ours and theirs.
This does not however, give anyone permission to abuse us and is not in the "realm" of "they couldn't help it."
Those are excuses.
We are accountable and responsible for who and what we are and do.
There may be reasons, but that is subject to individual bias and perspectives.
BUT, we can help ourselves...still love them, bless them and let them go.
Practice forgiveness and compassion for others and self.
Love one another.
Good self care.
New horizons.
A new year to begin again.
R-A N Jan 20, 2011
Of course, sometimes one simply has to try to understand that people are not perfect.
We are not “all the same” but we have more “in common” than not.
In fact we are all imperfect but we do have the individual choice, to lay to rest our "demons".
When we give them "air" or energy they may still "burn us".
We might then walk away and bless them as we go.
That removes the "negative energy" of the person/demon/situation, be it through presence or memory.
It is neutralized and is an opportunity to practise awareness, compassion and forgiveness.
To shelter oneself from fire or storm is good "self care", which opens the door to become who we truly are, irrespective of external circumstances.
Step out of the "shadows" of powerful, dysfunctional ego presence and "fly" to freedom.
Seek release from tyranny...ours and theirs.
This does not however, give anyone permission to abuse us and is not in the "realm" of "they couldn't help it."
Those are excuses.
We are accountable and responsible for who and what we are and do.
There may be reasons, but that is subject to individual bias and perspectives.
BUT, we can help ourselves...still love them, bless them and let them go.
Practice forgiveness and compassion for others and self.
Love one another.
Good self care.
New horizons.
A new year to begin again.
R-A N Jan 20, 2011
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