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I sometimes look at the ocean and wonder
Do fish look up at the sky and wonder?
I took a picture of the moon rising.
The moonbeams pierced the clouds
And shone brightly on the surface
Of an otherwise black sea.
Did the sea creatures below see the beauty?
These thought occur regularly.
They sneak out of dark corners
Way back in my mind.
It makes me wonder what else goes on…
Back there.
My subconscious scares me a little,
Am I controlling it?
My life experiences
Held in a big subconscious bowl.
Allowed to stew and blend,
Then pushed forward –
Unfiltered, unprocessed…unspoiled?
I mean, I’ve sometimes had the thought –
How can somebody do wrong
To another person –
Yell, hit, ignore, vilify or worse.
And then the thought comes –
How did it feel for the perpetrator?
Do I really want to know?
I don’t, and if I don’t
Why does my subconscious?
Idle curiosity…
I choose to think so.
I look into my dog’s eyes –
I love you they say.
Or is that what I want them to say.
When is dinner?
That’s probably what she’s thinking.
Maybe that look’s just curiosity?
And if curiosity killed the cat –
I am in a lot of trouble.
Some of this
Less of that
Fear of few
Love of lots
Plenty to give
Thankful to receive
Words that build
Ears that listen
Hearts that sing
Those who laugh
Hands that help
Spirits that soar
Colours that matter
Differences that don’t
Friendship to warm
Music to soothe
Places to see
Those I’ve seen
Paths that meander
I wonder…
Will we see past the colour
Will we perceive the beauty
Held within these simple strokes
Or will our hearts refuse
To see the reality beneath
The murmur of life
That hums equally
Within all living things
Regardless of how we paint them
Some choices are black and white
And yet I always add the grey.
Before I know it –
All the colours bloom.
Reds, greens and sometimes blue,
And I’ve put it off –
Until another sunrise.
Maybe then, in black and white.
Between darkness and light.
My feet are bare and cold,
Yet I am not afraid
As I occasionally step,
Into the unknown waters
Of the river Styx
azure skies, white clouds
autumns’ breeze begins to chill
making passionfruit
