Imagine a moment; You’re in the darkness of the earths crust, A seed - knowing of no light, Blissfully ignorant of what shall be in store, When one breaks through the ground with all one’s might…
Thus enjoy this moment in the comforting darkness, Drawing in energy from the soil like we do breath, ‘Till it feels as if one could overflow or burst, Yet take another ‘breath’ despite little capacity left.
Then the tip of a shoot breaks through one’s shell into the warm dirt, Slowly making it’s way ~ venturing forth towards the cooler air, Whilst another is soon making its way towards earths core, Though which direction ’tis going… a seed may actually be unaware.
Yet still it continues growing it’s way through the ground, Root tips weaving their way deeper into the earth, All the while being fueled by the abundant energy of the surrounding soil, That strengthens the deeper its connection becomes to nearth…
Imagine in this moment; you’re standing in the outback, With it’s iconic red sandy dirt beneath your feet, ‘Tis a warm dry afternoon in the springtime, And thus the scent of flowers is upon a light breeze, tangy ‘n’ sweet…
As you listen to the breeze dance amongst the gum leaves, Its ocean like melody lulls you into its sway, Into a more seraphic style of perspective, Allowing the breeze to for now blow all your troubles away….
Thus you’ve new space to taste the tangy scents upon the breeze, Which vary depending on the surrounding flora, Filling ones lungs slowly with abundant replenishment, Creating space to adjust for what lies soon in store!
As the wind dies down and the leaves calm, One listens to the birdsong tune that surrounds, ‘Tis so seraphic a picturesque scene one experiences here, With blue grey trees sheltering wildlife, Tall dried grasses, colourful birds, And the red dirt that abounds…
And then from seemingly nowhere the sand moves over ‘n’ around your feet, Moving whisplike a bit for a moment enchanting your attention, ‘Fore it starts swirling around at your ankles, Triggering an experience that takes a bit of comprehension…
Slowly this spiral increases in it’s velocity, ‘Tis not uncomfortable but the sandy element gritty, Growing its speed and height to one’s knees, Picking up, blowing away, and adjusting all that it please…
Soon one discovers they’re hip deep in a whirlpool, Consisting mostly of dust that sparkles in sunlight and wind just a touch cool, As your legs take on a new sensation before now unknown, ‘Fore further into this whirlwind one ‘tis ‘bout to be thrown.
Wind now begins to whip veraciously around your abdomen, Inching in height with each slow breath you take, The sensations across ones back remind one of that, Which an experienced masseuse may create…
Reaching chest height it soon creates an interesting illusion, Of treading water on a secluded private beach, Sensations of being sucked down within the whirlwind, Are not so overly far from ones imaginations reach…
Though reality ’tis completely the opposite, One is standing securely upon ones feet, The earth below supporting ones every move, In a way no being has the ability to ever beat.
Yet the whirlwind continues above ones shoulder height, Around one’s throat ~ creating an interesting insight, Sensations at every point neglected are now trying to fight, To gain your attention for going unnoticed to fester be their plight…
One’s line of sight fast becomes a blur of orange/red sparkle, Enlightening one to contemplate this moment’s debacle, Weightlessness brings it’s own variation of calming element particle, Whilst the whirlwind invigorates your every hairs follicle…
The whirlwind now swirls around one’s entire being, To thick to see through to anything on the other side, Bringing thoughts of unknown consequences to one’s mind, ‘Fore one truly has no idea the outcome to result from this ride…
Until the wind drops as through it never began, All around one’s position seems as it was before, Was the whirlwind just an illusion of some creators divine plan? Or something greater one need further explore?
When life pushes one’s goals aside, One may think they’ve fallen from their ride, Yet with the right guidance all’s far from lost, For creatin’ one’s best life can be embossed…
From being one who’s an over stressed night owl, Whom bounces from task to task with a scowl, One can metamorphose into a morning delight, With a touch of work and some resonant guiding insight.
Though the journey creatin’ ones best life’s, Not always artistic like prose, It's bound to have some moments or weeks, With thorns in ones plans like the branch of a rose…
Yet when we take a moment to examine our restricting perspectives of old, Release them and follow the guidance we seek out bestowed, ’Tis truly possible to redesign/evolve/recreate one’s life's mould, In a way once in place enhances one’s quest to gold…
And once the habits become natural, Good days shall be what flows, ’Tis nothing short of magic seeing, What from a month of challenging work grows…
For if one concretes element’s into one’s day, They can continue with ease, Regardless of what may try to shake things up… Thus supporting one’s ability to stay in a state of flow, For as long as one cares to please…
So for those on the fence seeking days more seraphic, Balanced in a way that in the long term can stick, That allows quintessential moments to actually connect with family/friends each day, Just carve out the moment it takes to learn and start implanting elements for it TODAY!
Challenges, they’re something that all must face, Be one human, gazelle or ancient tree deep in a forest thick, They help us to grow and evolve into stronger versions of ourselves, So that in this world our lives can continue to stick.
However overcoming challenges with grace ’tis an art form, That many a beings comfort zone would prefer not need learn, Despite being necessary to survive closer to a new level of comfort, There are times some prefer to sit back and watch everything burn.
Yet even those burning challenges with a tantrum, Have an element of art to their a touch more destructive work, For in this vast universe one thing can for certain be observed most everywhere, And that is an element of the universe’s artwork in all things always shall lurk.
For across a vast scorching desert one can find artistic elements, In the way the sand’s been blown into dunes and waves, Icicles may be jagged, pristine or crackled reflecting rainbows, Much like the crystals ever deep within natural formed caves.
Thus when facing a challenge seemingly too much for ourselves, Perhaps a controversial least alternate perspective we may need to hear, Lies in us all being elements of our rather epic universe’s artwork, ‘Fore we decide where in our challenging moment it is we shall steer.
When the words flow from ones brain onto paper One can be sure to think there’ll be mess, And yet more oft' then not ’tis pure magic, Thus is just how I personally write I confess.
For while some prefer planning and sculpting, Endless research and contemplating… There’s nothing quite as Devine as just sitting, And letting the words flow like water in a storm - not debating. 🙂
Writing is an art, and a most enchanting one, That lets one’s beholder cast the pictures in their mind, Taking them further each time through their own evolution, Whilst evolving the writer beyond their current point in kind.
Though at times writing can be a most frustrating event, When the words shan’t flow on the cue that we’d like, Pens run out of ink, devices go flat, the stream of words block, or life just happens to decide to block our delight…
Yet letter vie letter in each written moment, The enchanting magic of when the words flow, Can take all they reach onward seraphically or not. For it all depends what the writer shall have for them this time in stow…
When not a leaf is moving, And the day is sticky and thick, The heat's so dense it’s hard to breathe, As one contemplates lazing round near in the nick…
No bird is stirring though the midst of the day, ’Tis too dry and hot even for them, The flys though are out in force to drive most mad, However ’tis not a horror story from which this stems…
’Tis but a normal late spring/summers day in the outback, The sort of midday that blisters and burns, Australia into being the Sunburnt Country, When it's beaches and wintertime for which one yearns.
Thus when not a moment too late a glimpse of a breeze, Bring’s a micro glimmer of reliefs hope to all, One revels in it’s gentle kiss guiding the gum leaves to dance, From ground to tip it illusions a slight sway to the call.
Though soon the breeze light strengthens boldly, Lifting the top layer of dust in it’s path, As it strengthens to blow a rage through the bush, Leaving near no debris in it’s aftermath…
And yet as it roars through the scrub, One can’t help but notice how much it sounds like the ocean, Rising and crashing like waves on beach rocks, Although it be leaves here in motion.
When we feel we’ve fallen from our path, Or the way from now seems rather darkened, We may perceive an illusion of no way to continue, Beyond the point we’ve so boldly embarked upon…
Yet here ’tis where one can find an element of solace, For no path is completely straight and smooth, Life without challenging elements would be beyond dull, If all were constantly bliss and perfection we’d have nothing to improve…
Thus if one finds themselves a moment imbrued with contemplation, ’Tis most likely one shall find a new element to behold, A fresh perspective towards one’s plans that seem so uncomprehending, Perfectly evolving you to grace your end goals how they’re supposed to unfold.
This is why one need endure thy plan, Both one’s long term plans and short, With added elements of flexibility ~ especially of mind, Guiding evolution despite thoughts that may retort.
When a seed sprouts through earths crust, ’Tis abound with pure potential abundant, As it reaches skyward for the warm light of the sun, Unaware its probability to reach its highest potential is actually scant.
Despite the odds being vastly far from their favour, They grow each day towards their ultimate goal, Despite the pressure bearing down to overwhelm them, They find ways to evolve through the limitations of this life’s role.
Eventually they may wilt, their perspective bringing a darker moment to light, Numb in the darkness they exist in a kind of weird trance, Unable to feel, unable to function, unable to see any light through the fog… Until an element of kindness invites them to thrive through their transcendence…
Said element brings to them reprieve, a glimmer of shining light through the foggy surrounds, Triggering a path outwards towards the suns warming light, Thus giving them a new sparkle, though needing a touch of strategic planning, To grow further on through thoughts for their seraphic life that they can now fight…
Day by day they can now creep higher, closer than ever before to that they strive, Shining a way for those not yet thus far upon their own unique path of life, As they evolve beyond the layers from their darker days they’ve shed to grow this far, ‘Till they bloom beautifully beyond anything they could have expected to enthrive, Seraphically… through all transcendence.
Signs... omens... messages from those beyond? For eons humans have been said to have seen and believed, That certain things can give us insights and guidance, Into that which is to come... but could it purely just be something perceived?
Whilst seeing a solo crow, squawking on a post ever ominously, May seem an eerie moment to those whom witness it, If ’tis a single occurrence on its own is it truly a message of looming bad luck? Or could it be more something that triggers us to manifest our own ill finesse?
Picking up a coin dropped by another long ago, Or perhaps one’s found a clover with an extra leaf or more, Are they actually bringing one an extra splash of luck, Or is it one’s happier perspective causing better moments to soar?
When one is seeing the same numbers and signs in abundance, One may certainly believe there’s a message the universe is trying to impart, Though may it be possible it’s our subconscious trying to guide our focus on our life path? Or highlighting that which we ourselves just want to constantly align to in our respective art?
Now how we each view our world ’tis always a unique perspective to us alone, And whilst there’s always an abundance the world around can reveal to each whom seek, The thought that should perhaps always linger at least a moment within our conscious thoughts ’tis; Is this truly signs of the omens soon to transpire? Or something I’ve attracted to me just in this moment meek?
Once a seed with potential loaded, Erupting skyward through earths crust, Craving sunlight and damp soil for its thirst to quench, Implanting its roots deeply to thrive ‘tis thrust.
Day by day, soon year by year, each season passing swift, Strengthening in its not quite sheltered spot, Gains this one an edge most dream but rarely appear to receive, Yet here it thrives boldly onward beside its equally thriving cohort!
Thus as it cycles through the seasons soon it starts to bloom, Blossoming with a sweetened scent to all nearby, ‘Till weeks pass and the last fluff like piece falls upon the breeze, Leaving green growing fruit to mark that berry picking shall soon be nigh…
Weeks pass berries ripen, through different shades of red, Eager little mouths testing fast to see if the time is yet, For patience is something near bested with each not quite ripe berry ‘tis said, Though a long moment waiting builds its strength more than they fret.
Thus when many a berry ‘tis finally ready to pick at its flavourful peak, Buckets and ladders venture forth to the tree for the happy feat, Of plucking its rather juicy bounty from branches far from bleak, Though once committed ‘tis a task not exactly for those too meek…
Yet on they pluck berry by berry stopping to taste so few, Once buckets are full one looks to find there’s still plenty for the birds too, For when trees be loaded with more berries than leaves there’s certainly no need to que, One can pick away ‘till all’s content that one is finally through!
Then onward comes the tasks of jam making, Freezing amounts desired and slice baking, For with such an abundance comes an element of sharing the undertaking, Knowing with time shall again come such a tasty bountiful partaking!
The Poetic Life 2.0 