The mountain rears magnificent
a titanic ship’s prow
cuts through countless dawns
sun warmed, storm wracked
mute testimony
to tectonic brooding
of the planet below our feet
I am tempted to feel small
But a mountain is just a mountain
not a comment on me
by the cocoon of fog that enfolds the land
until
it's fire burns its way into another Autumn day
In the morning of our day
a mist shrouds our sight
In the heat of day
often in seeing too far
find we can not bear
the knowing or being known
In the dusk of our day
we consume the long looking back
and yearn for the mist of the morning
to ease our pain
In the night of our day
we wonder at the stars
Last night under the stars
I threw a thought into the expanding sky
and from some kind dimension
an echo returned and
everything that would have been,
changed
From then days were sent spendthrift my way
the universe’s gift of time
All being flows from perceptions strewn
like stones thrown wet,
newly born
from their hollows carved
in a lakes sharp edge
So cast beyond imagining
we wait and listen
for the return of
the echos that we are
The sunset of the day
lengthens the shadows of
our knowing
I turn and seek your warmth
and the reassurance
of another morning
But you know, as I
that the promise of
tomorrow is found
not in any certainty of waking
but in the cycle of earth
and the nuclear hearth
that warms us
So we sleep in hope
and are grateful for each
new dawning
Am I a cosmic dream?
Looking out is effortless
inward vision is another matter
because in my warrens of neurons
echos my lost child’s wail
Searching I stumble
down blind corridors
and row upon row of locked doors
What lies behind them?
Vestiges of past lives lived
or memories etched in DNA?
Simultaneous realities
both known and not
familiar as Schrodinger’s cat
half dead, half alive
and like me
frozen for fear of looking Now water - I am
nine tenths submerged
in the quantum sea’s
imaginary waves
Old memories drift like fog
become dim and
melt at the edges
and too soon I am absorbed
into the ocean
of all the dreams dreamed
Deja vu all over again
Knowledge
the antithesis of answers
a child of doubt, stillborn
Still searching I glimpse half seen
truths like frightened doves
taking flight.
In desperation
I lunge to confine them
in my grasp
But find that all I have
are only a few small
feathers of wisdom.
There is beyond our grasp
some great glory
radiant with mystery
its source hidden
from mortal eyes
That joy beyond perception
beckons our souls
brings hope to our lives
even as we struggle to climb
on wounded limbs
with blinded eyes
towards that which we can not know
until
our time is full
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This site and my photography business have developed from a passion for wonder, for wandering and for story telling. In the past few years I have traveled to more than 700 cities and places in pursuit of wonders from which come my stories and photographs. IMAGES OF THE JOURNEY PHOTOGRAPHY
High quality photographs that capture the essence of exotic travel which will bring that blank wall in your office or home to life.
Photo gifts, calendars, clothing, are also available.
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