Of the world...

lenin1968.photosight.ru

My world
is not a fortress;
I made it open
and inviting
and it has its bounds
not impregnable.
Yet my space
and my time are
precious, for
flowers bloom
there.
My thoughts wander
here and there
and then come to
rest 
there.
My dreams take
shape and then
change into
a thousand more
shapes
there.
I am of the world
but not always
for the world
there.

In the nature of things...2

jovanni.photosight.ru

The design remains
hidden
to the world
and reveals itself
only to the 
discerning eye
As I perch myself
on the bank of 
the enduring mystery
of clear flow
topping 
the mired earth
covering the 
wearied rocks,
I too want to 
dive deeper 
below the dance of passions
that takes place
on top
the tangled mass
of dashed dreams
and lost hopes 

Held in thrall ...5

S_Zot.photosight.ru

I did it first
and now wonder
what drove me
into it.
I am still not out
of it
- its wonder
- beauty
and the complete
losing myself to it.
I don't want to
leave it
- just soaking into it.
Spirits united
as bodies jostled
together
with the separateness
of existence
and then there 
remained only
the spirit 
of that wonderful
union.

In the Nature of things...

krasnov.photosight.ru

When I go
to nature
I let myself
merge with it.
With the cool shade
I gain my cool
with the rough texture
of a century old bark
I become weatherbeaten
but still holding
In the strong trunk
I find my own strength
and rectitude
to lean on.
With the soft ground below
I let myself not become
a burden to myself
and when the light
begins to fade
I make peace
with the haziness inside
and most of all
I don't rush 
with or drive on 
life.
I just let myself be 
- no posturing
and no pretences. 

Tenderly

andrew13.photosight.ru

The light goes soft
the breeze is gentle
the shoots are tender
and the flowers tiny
there is a glow on the skin
and a smile on the lips
clouds float lazily
and I hear whispers
in the bushes
that ask me
to tend and attend
but not pretend.
Tenderly yours
says Nature.

Firm but not Final...

malessa.photosight.ru

It got dark
and then darker
with no glimmer of light.
I wasn't rattled.
I stood unmoved
taking in the darkness
which slowly turned 
a shade gray.
Some outlines I could
make out
and some spaces.
My guts knew 
I would get out.
I had learnt to trust 
none else.
Every cell in the body
was alive and taut
and the spirit moved 
freely through and in
the veins.
Words turned 
into tunes
and then became
notes
of a clarion

and the call
still reverberates 
in the yonder.

In the Mist...

constskomoroh.photosight.ru

When I woke up
I wasn't sure if
I was awake 
or dreaming.
Dawn hadn't broken
but night too chose
to withdraw.
Was it peace
or silence,
I couldn't make out.
Love that I received
also seemed 
like the other's 
need for pleasure.
The present moment
is so precious
that it just slips out
of your grasp.
A faint light
glimmers in the
mist
almost
painting my whole
life in that moment.