
wordless wednesday



As the winter winds travel across Wyoming’s landscape
the swirling snow releases its memories of you, lost …
somewhere… on Casper Mountain.
Its frigid touch awakens me to your
aloneness – in that wilderness of blinding snow
cries – deafened by the river of winds,
calling – out in hope for
a human form – to emerge out of the whiteness
the warmth – of a human hand
the sound – of a voice, comforting you
accompanying – you home.
As I become hostage to this winter’s swirling thoughts
the river winds tear into my soul
releasing tears arising from
the darkness of grief’s aloneness, seeking
a knowing to emerge out of ignorance’s darkness
you found – peace
within – a loving presence
embracing – you
accompanying – you home.
Lawrence John Anderson, January 11, 1957 – January 20, 1980
today’s heavenly gift
again is small…
billowing cloud ~Issa (cited: haikuguy.com)



micro images (AF-S micro nikkor 40mm) submitted in response to slow shutter speed’s lens-artists photo challenge.
be safe…be well…be sage.
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times,

“it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness,

“it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity,

“it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the winter of despair,

“we had everything before us, we had nothing before us,

“we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way

“– in short, the period was so far like the present period,

“that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received,

“for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.” ~Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities.
Quote from Charles Dickens’, A Tale of Two Cities, and images submitted in response to Travels and Trifles first photo challenge for 2021.
Silence
in a field with oak trees.
The winter moon.
~Buson, (cited: Y Sawa & E Shiffert, Haiku Master Buson)

if my father were here–
dawn colors
over green fields ~Issa (cited: haiku.guy)


Glazed silk, newly cut, smooth, glittering, white, As white, as clear, even as frost and snow. Perfectly fashioned into a fan, Round, round, like the brilliant moon, Treasured in my Lord's sleeve, taken out, put in— Wave it, shake it, and a little wind flies from it. How often I fear the Autumn Season's coming And the fierce, cold wind which scatters the blazing heat. Discarded, passed by, laid in a box alone; Such a little time, and the thing of love cast off. ~Pan Chieh-Yü*

*cited: Trans: Florence Ayscough & Any Lowell The Project Gutenberg EBook of Fir-Flower Tablets
We live
in a tide-swept inlet,
floating, flung.
In such a world, why cling to
collections of poems?
~Izumi Shikibu, (J Hirshfield & M Aratani, The Ink Dark Moon)

previously posted on November, 2017






The smoke from the Cameron Peak fire submitted for the Six Word Saturday photo challenge
The images above were created through the use of multiple exposure, both within camera and through digital editing. This Double Exposure project was inspired by the belief that images give voice to the emotional pain of COVID across the globe. While this virus does not discriminate, the number of people who are most impacted during this time are those who live within impoverished communities—dense housing projects, reliance on public transportation, low income, limited access to medical care and sick leave, employment instability, and rates of non-communicable diseases and illness.
The phoenix that may arise from the flames of inconsolable grief is an awareness of the inequality aggregation of these social and economic disparities exacerbates the adverse effects of all humanity.
COVID-19 is not a pandemic. It is a syndemic.

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