His soul hides
Deep within old leather covers
Safe upon the shelf
Sometimes pulled down
Blowing dust free
Forgotten poems read
In the fading light
Of dusk
IT Professional & Seattle Guy
His soul hides
Deep within old leather covers
Safe upon the shelf
Sometimes pulled down
Blowing dust free
Forgotten poems read
In the fading light
Of dusk
Beautiful words
Embrace my mind
Yet life demands
My attention
Seattle’s winter taught me something new: deserts hate me. In the deepest cold of February, as the upper left coast shivered in a frigid, deeply embrace, my skin burned. Cracking, peeling, bleeding, the lack of moisture in the air brutalized me. Far more painful that I remember.
Over the years I dreamt of journeys through the Southwest. Wandering the desert canyons, a soundtrack featuring R. Carlos Nakai, perhaps tied to a writer’s retreat, I explore the zen within the arid land. Tranquility filling my soul.
Now I fear my skin crumbling off my bones. Needing to bathe in moisturizer. Not the most pleasant imagery.
Perhaps my mind exaggerates. It often plays such tricks on me. The dream still lingers. No harm, I guess, in holding that. Maybe the tranquility compensates for the damaged skin.
Such randomness within in my mind.
Unfamiliar with R. Carlos Nakai’s music? His native flute music carries me deep within, speaking to my depths.
In this daylight
Work flows from fingers
Will the rains clean the street?
I love music that challenges me, pushes my understanding of what music, what it can convey. So I look forward to exploring this playlist. Let me know what you think.
Spotify created a ‘Folk Hymnal Radio’ playlist. Pretty much anyone’s music I love is there. If you like Folk Hymnal music, take a listen to find similar artists. (HT: @greglafollette, @Theportersgate @ellieholcomb @Sandramccracken, @cornerroommusic, more) https://t.co/bxgHJU4hJK
— Folk Hymnal (@folkhymnal) March 10, 2019
I reject the paradigm of rage
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p style=”font-family:"”>Replacing that with kindness
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p style=”font-family:"”>Seeking all the world’s beauty
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p style=”font-family:"”>Then magnify it all
Seattle’s winter taught me something new: deserts hate me. In the deepest cold of February, as the upper left coast shivered in a frigid, deeply embrace, my skin burned. Cracking, peeling, bleeding, the lack of moisture in the air brutalized me. Far more painful that I remember.
Over the years I dreamt of journeys through the Southwest. Wandering the desert canyons, a soundtrack featuring R. Carlos Nakai, perhaps tied to a writer’s retreat, I explore the zen within the arid land. Tranquility filling my soul.
Now I fear my skin crumbling off my bones. Needing to bathe in moisturizer. Not the most pleasant imagery.
Perhaps my mind exaggerates. It often plays such tricks on me. The dream still lingers. No harm, I guess, in holding that. Maybe the tranquility compensates for the damaged skin.
Such randomness within in my mind.
Unfamiliar with R. Carlos Nakai’s music? His native flute music carries me deep within, speaking to my depths.
It isn’t a dream
There is joy all around us
Picturing flowers

These cherry blossoms
Thousands of people descend
Seattle’s springtime

Walking in sunshine
Just below these powerlines
Life in the suburbs