Re-turning to Secret Garden
....’twas in this space of early morning starsun,
that the forest of woods opened their branchlets,
and i knowing none the wiser stepped forward as one,
till in my soon to be awakening of having an expression of being’s inarticulates….
—-i paused to drink the smell of lichen wonders,
and who could say any the different now in this place of morning quest,
since there were none to follow me on my passionate adventures,
so i scrub the floor of this my begotten secret garden of blest….
—-seeing is just the feeling of smell,
as my soul dropped to the mosey floor of colors,
and with the actions of an artist lost within the moments swell,
i knew as then ‘twas not me but you who were writing my history of future sors….
....drink deeply of this place in life where soul and spirit are one,
for from this cistern of fermented draught,
is found your way of passage that cleaves you from a selfish zone,
and with the fondness of all that is before i came forth as i ought….
And so I start a tale of a waundering ramble I went out on in the early morning hours of Sunday before noon. While not having all that much space today, I will continue this little trip over the coming days and write and post some more pictures of a place that is about thirty minutes out from me and best of all….still untouched by many other’s.
....just posting pictures, you can write and fill in the blank spaces….reaching for the top….
....on hands and knees I fathomed your depth….while slowly I understood the taste of your wisdom….
....and so your passion in-flames me with zest of life….
”....seeing was but the beginning, and then came hearing, while in the hearing of moments, i was the one who started feeling ‘wood art’….”
-- --frank, NH, http://rusticwoodart.tumblr.com/