Liquefied


storm’s eye entrusted
within your palm,
glowing fury extends,
momentarily calm

closing space,
meeting trepidous skin,
lightning flashing,
gooseflesh begins

circling orbs,
as breathing catches,
creating peaks,
heat stinging like matches

slowly and deliberately,
traveling lower,
crackling and buzzing,
gaining power

or maybe that was you,
the eye of the storm,
shooting streams of light
against my form

finally reaching
my pinnacle of need,
with back-arching, sheet-twisting, lip-biting greed

my body awake,
every molecule alive,
thrumming and humming
in overdrive

then you touch me,
pure energy on skin,
and I liquefy
into a thunderous din

Photo is mine

Winged Wisdom

The blue heron is a gracefully elegant bird with which I have long been enamored. I think I first noticed them years ago, visiting my dad at Indian Lake where he lived with my grandma. He’d moved back to Ohio from Florida, after being gone for many years, mostly because his health was deteriorating. He wanted to be closer to the ones he loved. Those last few years were the best in our relationship. 

Fishing was always a passion of his, and M and I would often fish with him when we visited. We were lucky – blue heron would most always perch or fly nearby. They were breathtaking. Their beauty never escaped me, but it was always their humble grace and patience that stuck with me. I felt like they were always reminding me…..

We’ve camped over the years all over Ohio and in Pennsylvania, and I always look for them. I have many beautiful photos; I fell in love. 

Now, we frequently go on short hikes and walks in our nearby parks and nature preserves around the state. Less than a mile from our house is a beautiful nature preserve, and just a bit further is a bike path through many parks along a creek, a beautiful dam and river system. I still always look for the blue heron, and feel a sort of reverence to the feelings they illicit. 

They are poetry in motion, to me. 

Recently, I looked up some more information about them. I found that the heron’s graceful nature reminds us to follow our hearts, instead of subscribing to conventional wisdom. Their humbly strong demeanor reminds us that our own wisdom is synonymous with our path of self determination. They also remind us to practice patience, to be balanced and wise, and to be in tune with our hearts. All of these speak deeply to me; I aspire to these. 

And so, a blue heron now resides on my arm, a forever reminder. 

Pup’s POV

My pup wanted to show you what we’ve been up to the last two days…

Leading the humans….they are kinda slow.


Cantwell Cliffs. I wanted to run around that rim but the humans wouldn’t let me.


Ash Cave. The water tastes like ass there. Made me sneeze. Should have called it Ass Cave.


The humans banned me to the back. Something about dirty paws, which is funny, since their butts are all dirty. Every one.


Rock House. It totally smelled like pigeon poop, but my barks had the BEST echo, dude.


Found this cool caterpillar on the way out of the last cave. Big male human relocated it because I wanted to lick it. Licked by butt instead.

Woof!

Morning

sleepy eyes wake to salmon hue
sneaking between the window shades

inviting feet to follow, out
to savor what the gods have made

billowing cotton stretches the sky
as I breathe in the chilly air

and little paws dance on frosty grass
reluctant to leave his lair

warmth radiates in steamy wafts
from my favorite Black Dog mug

filled with the best pour-over java
made for me, the perfect hug

thinking pad and clean white sheets
lay before me, calling me home 

I sink to inky depths, welcomed
direction completely unknown 


Photos are mine. Good morning!

Macro Shine

M recently brought home this fantastic little macroscope for us to play with. It’s unbelievable what an iPhone camera can pick up looking through it, especially when the sun is shining brightly!


My eye, reflecting the brilliant sky.


Dandelion.


Head of a screw in wood.


Busy ant…look closely, and you can see the pollen on his exoskeleton.

Photos belong to us. 

He is…

he is the tells me I’m beautiful man
the always is truthful man
the humor makes me feel youthful man
and his exuberance is contagious 

he is the helps you fix your flat man
the tells me I look sexy in a hat man
the puts up with my brat man
and his compassion is inspiring

he is the leads by doing man
the eyes are my cueing man
the ideas are always brewing man
and his wisdom is humbling

he is the sheds a tear man
the holds my hand when I’m near man
the makes mistakes without fear man
and his strength is inspiring

he is the listens and hears me man
the promises are never empty man
the inside his arms is safety man
and he’s worthy of all I am

he is the helps me see clearly man
the spanks my ass sincerely man
the walks tall and cavalierly man
and he’s my home

Alive


upon my skin
are memories, 
dots and lines, 
external, set free

beneath the color
shapes are alive,
moments in time
destined to thrive 

adorned in spirit
by a needle and gun,
honored in art,
every one

while unmarked flesh begs
and memories yearn,
obsessively multiplying,
awaiting a turn

-image is my own, shared in response to the daily photo prompt fun, and the daily prompt, obsessed