Monday, August 9, 2010

'for what i was became the now'...








{ click on the links below the captures to see these lovelies on flickr, and to see more work from each inspiring photographer }



' for what i was became the now '

oh, how you lilt within the blowing air, little pod.
dances wrapped in the familiarity all around, and branches filled in tinkling harmonious sway.
as days advance, the light calls forth movement in the atmosphere.











how fast you hold onto the now, little pod.
time pulling with inevitable force;  such a tenuous grasp for stability.
the frightening exhilaration of the plummet; the length this pod can see.












see the bottom dropped from this world, little pod.
terror seizes, leaving fluttered spirals to blindly reach toward solid ground.
how unfortunate, the joy of finite flight is missed.











feel wind expelled from lungs, little pod.
dazed, prostrate pod can only gaze upon the distant branch of above. the home.
movement only coming by the winds will to carry the future lay of the land.












a little pod no more,
as split wrappings of this skin disintegrate into earth.
insides laid open for the cycle to make this turn and nourish the depths.  time held dormant in ice.











speak the decision to continue on, little seeds.
clear of pods straddling midsummer days; pods washed away in stormy torrent.
press hands toward kindred spirits, digging into neighboring ground; comfort in companionship.




{ m8; by jesse leake }




{ untitled; by mallory }




now little roots, miraculous footing found.
oh! this new life sprouting from the depths of soul; so immersed, the little pod never felt this future.
vessel changing in a fleeting touch of almost remembrance.












these green veiny protrusions, destined for you, little limbs.
such familiarity in this quivering dance; fragility carried by stronger arms.
the difference comes with the view, as eyes look down and up upon the life; every molecule is mine.













warmth laid out ahead pulls this little tree.
how funny. the time and pain and depth of being that were given over to that frightening journey.
tearing open the inside to force the hand to move, i suppose.




{ untitled; by la sendi }







here i stand tall.
sweeping winds may only sway this strengthened core,
releasing the fear with each piece of my being carried into glorious new realms. 











no longer just a piece of the one but of the everything wandering toward forever.




~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


happy monday 

3 comments:

Willie and Henrietta said...

Gorgeous, gorgeous collection of photos and phrases! Thank you and Happy Monday to you too!

Cary Walker said...

that picture seems like a million years ago... you make it and all the photos so lovely with your words

K said...

I really got lost in this post - in the good way!