words and pictures....
August 19, 2015
The lone boat floats in the water, it is solitary and complex, yet it appears so simple and serene. The lone boat can only weather so many storms, before it goes adrift. The lone boat may break and be patched up to float again. In time, the lone boat will sink from the weight of what it heaves to shore.
July 6, 2015
In quiet mourning I wait
For love
I say to myself where can it be
For in my waiting
I search my soul
And ask of it
Why love does not seek me.
June 24, 2015
When I seek sanctuary from the trials and tribulations of life I spend time in nature. I walk amidst the fields and forests, along the marshes and beaches. I spend time observing nature and becoming one with it. I never cease to marvel at the sights and sounds of nature. I revel in the colors and textures I see before me. I reach out to touch the very palpable flesh of a blade of grass, a pebble or shell on the beach, the bark of a tree. What marvel is the bark of a tree for it is so many colors and textures.
Trees speak to me. They tell me of their struggles surviving in the forest or standing alone in the middle of the field. Trees share their stories with each of us, but we must be open to receive…
Ode to Trees is a lovely essay by Herman Hesse and it can be found in his book Wandering: Notes and Sketches: (more…)
June 11, 2015
Treat this day as though it is a flower bud, opening and unfurling its petals as the moments of the day pass on. Each moment, each petal unfurling, is an opportunity for growth and change. We can blossom in our lives as flower bud changes from a tight, young bud to wide open flower, rich and heady with pollen to germinate the seeds of life elsewhere.
We are the cycle of life, as is the flower bud. We gain nothing if we remain tight and closed, a bud unwilling to open. We must look towards each day and unfurl our lives with happiness, gratitude and inspiration to be the most glorious flower we can be. That is living in the moment.
April 3, 2015
Is A Secret Sacred
Is a secret sacred
Is it to be held
Heartily is some reverential place
Only to be revealed
To the ones of the cult
Is a secret sacred
Is it to be held
Hopeful and tentative in its space
Or should it be revealed
At the alter of great doubt
Is a secret sacred
*Originally posted as a submission for Poetic Asides Poetry Challenge, the 2015 April PAD Challenge: Day 2 ~ c. Pamela J. Leavey.
*Photo: Maudslay State Park ~ c. Pamela J. Leavey
November 8, 2013
Sanctuary
They were two friends who had known each other for four years and yet they were proverbial strangers. On the final day of summer, they prepared to ride out together on his highly polished black and chrome Harley Davidson towards the verdant coast of Cape Ann, to the port of Gloucester, Massachusetts. There were billowy cumulus clouds in the sky but still, the sun was shining fiercely. Even with the indulgent end of summer wind that bore the perception of fall in its flurries, it was the epitome of the perfect day for riding. She swung her right leg up over the seat, positioned her left foot on the foot peg and slid onto the back of his bike. Once positioned comfortably on the back seat of the rumbling Harley, he instinctively took his cue that she was ready to roll and they roared off in search of some succor for their solitary souls.
As they rode along the winding road to Gloucester, the lush green landscape showed an indication of the ambiance of fall colors to arise as the temperatures shifted with the season. Yes, the day was already holding the promise of fulfillment. Both of them appeared to be drinking in the scenery as though it were a snifter of fine cognac, the taste of which rolled onto their taste buds, washed down their throats and warmed their souls. Over the thunderous roar of the Harley engine, they conversed intermittently of the splendor of the diverse terrain where they dwelt. (more…)
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