life: acoustic & amplified

poetry, quotes & thoughts about life

a day to remember

Deep, heavy snow erased the land and rendered it in black and white. It clings to every branch and twig in marshmallowy fatness. There are no things now, no color, only white blobs. Every branch is burdened, bowed or broken. Some limbs, overloaded, crack and fall and sigh and settle back into snow’s old silence. The path is blocked by disasters of fallen trees and snow-bent boughs stooped the way sorrows weigh you down. Every tree and hillock is disguised. Nothing looks the same. The way has vanished. I have to pick my way around these heaped up baskets of bent and fallen branches covering the trail. I lose my way. I could turn back—my fingers are cold, my feet are wet, I’m hungry for breakfast, and I’m not sure of the way. But I am as changed as the woods. I might stand here till I become a snowy mound, one with this sparking silence. Why wouldn’t I find a way for amazement? Why not endure hurt or hunger for gratitude? Isn’t beauty the way? Even in struggle, isn’t wonder the path?


Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

there is wonder

in the shape of things

magnificence in patterns

grace in the traced template

outlining perfection

or a the very least,

mind boggling excellence

there is magic in a great shape

simply exquisite how I love things so much

my imagination immediately begins to conjure up favorite selections:

cotton candy clouds reorganizing in mid air

ferns unfolding into majestic fans for kingly trees

fat snowflakes plopping onto every available surface in my walking world leaving me thrilled and chilled to the bone

leaves dancing to the grounded drum beats

random pieces of nature shaped into hearts

a thick glass 6 oz coke bottle, ice-cold, being pulled from the clanging machine

cupcakes with perfect frosting being deconstructed one finger swipe at a time

the outline of a baby cheek sleeping on the shoulder of the young man in front of you

Rama Desi’s yellow house, complete with chalk sidewalk dragons

the most perfect button I’ve ever seen on a belly…

the fingers of my imagination slowly touching each one

lingering on you…

my mind takes me into other worlds

cinema of beautiful shapes

wealth of living awareness

well beyond limits

riches of the mystic

always ready when I push play

stories to be shared





each continued…. continuously…

at their own beautiful pace


Amy Lloyd

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