Photographed by Mitzi
Inner monologue
Enigmatic interplay
silhouette…luminosity
Thrilling silence…
Time moves inexorably forward
Thoughts of people come and go
Smiles, sighs, passionate emotions
Yet memories persist – enliven imaginations
Gallant rendezvous
Feelings are mutual in dawn’s first light
In a watercolor display
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Poem Written by Brenda L. McCartney
The benediction of the old vaunt an infinite symbolic richness
The new breathes and I feel – “A swollen note of gratitude”
We toast to the melody of life, the pleasures of now
Yesterday dangles, enchants in painterly splendor
Almost in a celebratory play
Life’s lyricism dazzle in coloratura flights
Delightful twists much at our heart
Graceful moments danced – pleasant, calm, correct
We pause …as if plucked from a crown – thankful
Tomorrow we will be happy…we will learn how deep we can love
We will learn to be happy
Living Red like some flower – budding awaiting the bloom of something new.
-
Written by Brenda L. McCartney
Photographed by Judy Olsen
The presence of the past…
in a pendulum of priceless impulse
fragrance born in touches of
quiet affection, silent adoration
calm gravity folded in hues
under clear skies
The peaceful rhythm of tender branches
Tapestry of genes nourishing roots
Silhouettes of awareness treasured
The mirror of self reflecting purity
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Poem Written By Brenda L. McCartney
Photgraphed by Judy Olsen
Quiet moments punctuate thoughts
Molding, melting ice pellets
The unsuspected interlocks
Liberty folds in trickles
Purity, color mounts
Sunlight pulls in vortex encounters
The organic fascinates,
…talks with certainty
Luminous with joy
The blue pine of autumn
On Table Top glass
-
Written by Brenda L. McCartney
Photographed by Judy Olsen
The beauty of existence
Past the illuminations of dreams
Openings precipitated drifted
Fleeting habitable moments
Powerful desires in golden tones
Enough to give back
Awaken, sparkle, a smile
On a new day a new month
Inlaying the essence of autumn
-
Poem Written by Brenda L. McCartney
artney
Reaching a milestone is an inspiring time. It unleashes so many emotions. Upon reaching a milestone there is an inner peace that comes from the accomplishment. Things that we often take for granted such as simply breathing become more meaningful. It feels like you are on a cusp of a whole new life. It is a time of the year one look at things (signs, symbols) for a new perspective; it presents an opportunity to be motivated. The days leading up to my birthday one symbol or thing that kept coming into my consciousness was the ELEPHANT.
There are three things that happened that made me think of the fact that knowledge is the beginning of many rewarding experiences. I wanted to watch a movie “Water for Elephants” which I did not get a chance to see in the movie theatre. Happenstance while waiting in a business office for particular documents I came across Conde Nast Traveler and read an article named “the Lord of Beginnings.”
These three stories highlight that true talent is a gift that is born within. No matter what obstacles are in your way no one can take that gift of knowledge which has been implanted in your life. We are meant to live freely and life is ours to embrace. In this life we can rely on our conscious state, revelations, religious teachings, rituals, symbols and customs to help us along
I had to prepare my daughter’s back pack from last school year due to the new back pack zipper not working after two days of school. I noticed the ELEPHANT on the bag. It drew me in and he ‘bathed me on the serene immediacy of his pleasure”- in a sense – removing my obstacles.
PS. I wrote this blog on the fifth of September and decided I was not going to publish it on my blog. Coincidentally, while browsing through Time Light box pictures of the week I came across a photograph of a man carrying an idol of Hindu elephant headed god Ganesha for immersing it in the Arabian Sea on the fifth day of the 10 day long Ganesh Chaturti festival in Mumbai, India. The festival celebrates the birth of the Hindu god. I can hear my friend whisper as she reads this post “there are no coincidences”
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Having just celebrated my birthday it seems as if it is a new year. Can I describe what a new year stirs?
It does not stir desire nor memory but a throbbing of life dancing in my blood. As I face the unknown with carefreeness and freedom, I am truly thankful for what I have received and what I am about to receive.
Dear God
Lord of beginnings, remover of obstacles, as I immerse in your miracle and favor
I am thankful for:
The love of a husband;
The gift of a child;
The present and presence of friends;
The boundless resilience of family;
The whisper of admirers and;
The bounty of many harvest
Amen.
Image by Tom Grill
Sometimes I have an inescapable obligation to myself to comment or write my thoughts with a pure voice but I choose not you use obvious abusive or crass language. I have always marveled at literary works back when language and speaking was an art rather than just functionary as it is now. No matter how modern our society has become it is considered a social solecism to conduct ourselves in a certain manner. Consequently, rather than putting myself at the risk of speaking with a supercilious voice in the end I express my thoughts poetically, which can be interpreted as memoirs of guises.
Jamaican Raphael Carl Rattray felicitously pen poem “Restraint” expresses this same sentiment; that tells a ‘poignant story of the agony of choice.’
My bottled thoughts
Stopped with caution
Born of learning
Strain now to issue
From sealed lips;
To break free
From civil bonds,
To say
What comes to mind,
Ignoring
Rules of circumspection
Or the bruised effect,
Upon the hearer
I want to hurt
With words,
Simmered in the cauldron
Of my discontent;
To disgorge
The constrained acid
In my soul;
To have lava flow
From the volcano
Of my mind
But a greater force,
Now intervenes,
The polishing effect
Of tutored words,
The nourishing
In school rooms
Long deserted,
The warm caresses
On a thousand bosoms –
They hug me close,
And leave me
Civilized,
And mute
-
Poem Written by Raphael Carl Rattray
Image of T. Burrows
Basho is a Japanese Poet who practiced a form of poetry called haikai, consisting of linked verses. This is where the familiar term Haiku first developed. A Haiku is the first verse of the linked verses of a Haikai poem. The Haiku is unrhymed phrases of five, seven and five syllables that are meant to capture the essence of nature. Basho learned the craft of poetry from Kigin, a prominent Kyoto poet. He eventually became a recluse, and on his travels relied on the hospitality of temples and fellow poets. Each Haiku portrays the landscapes Basho travels through. It has been three centuries after Basho’s Narrow Road yet it still speaks to us. Through the words of revered Japanese Poet Matsuo Basho I found and penned my own Haiku; I added a line.
Gladly I join you
Nurtured by Life!
Leaping unto pages
Written in summer
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Poem Written by Brenda L. McCartney
My cousin’s Facebook wall today had a photograph of my grandmother. The images invoked memories of my grandmother’s ritual of blowing me kisses through the phone after ending our telephone conversation; the figure of her looking into my eyes and seeing the simple pleasures of her smile still resonate with me. My blog today celebrates my paternal grandmother on her ninety sixth birthday. The role she had in all our lives and shared with all of us (family, friends, and well -wishers) is palpable. I recall the first time she met my husband the look in her eyes and the salutation ‘my grandson’ as if he had cometh forth from her loins. Today I remember the words, the conversations that my grandmother and I have had over the years publicly or in our private ‘whispering-galleries.’ These times are still clearly heard and held for posterity. I am blessed to have known her. I can truly savor my thoughts … now with a sweet maturity and authentic tenderness.
The simple pleasures of her smile
In her eyes
Pierced through
Pieced together
Salvaged family moments
Succinct whispers
Atavistic instincts
Enraptured in her beauty
The years weaved her story
Our memories
Memories – our treasured heirloom
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Poem Written by Brenda L. McCartney
© 2011 McCartney House
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