StoneTosser
Living Out Loud
Writings
I like to write. I always have. As I've gotten older, I've come to appreciate that writing is a form of expression that helps me create myself. Thus, I don't write for others, but for myself. Sometimes others get benefit from what I write, so I put it here. If you like something you see here or on my blog, please let me know. It makes me feel good to know my words can spur others to feel and think more deeply about the world and their lives. While I enjoy musing on my travel experiences, lately I've been drawn to writing more on spiritual growth themes. I'm sure these subjects will morph and change as I do, so stay tuned and please subscribe to my blog feed or email updates.
As of January, 2010, I published my first (very) short story, Emily and Esmeralda. Wonder if this is a trend?
Below is a collection of a few of my favorite poems. I don't write poetry as often as I'd like, but when I do, I'll post it to my blog.
As of January, 2010, I published my first (very) short story, Emily and Esmeralda. Wonder if this is a trend?
Below is a collection of a few of my favorite poems. I don't write poetry as often as I'd like, but when I do, I'll post it to my blog.
Photo Credit: My son in Peru 2009
Imagining the Moon
to litter the walkspaces and thoroughfares of places others call home.
Why would you imagine except to live more fully the life that waits
somewhere beyond your perception, somewhere others would not call 'real'?
'Imagine something for me', you say, and
I see cold places that are the chill in this morning's air,
I feel the echo of passion where weariness now stirs and
I sense death in the life throbbing around me.
'Imagine yourself,' you say, and
the moon swirls into view, full and cold
and powerful.
Still in the sky, I see it imagining me as it slips
away into the light of day.
StoneTosser (c) 2006
Photo Credit: My son on his Peru trip in 2009.
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Pebbled Beach
swelling into the surges of brine
that creep up and back down
before me, ceaselessly.
As I watch, mighty rock wears to
pebbled specks, dulled jewels of
green, gray and brown washed until
they sparkle with veins of white and rust.
Life clings, waving
softly below and lying limply above –
starving and drowning against
each wave’s sucking caress.
Desperately,water and stone
push and pulse in
an endless press to merge, constantly
frustrated by the slipping and sliding away.
Unaltered change shapes the face
of this place I love, as
each year we return to find that
the sea has moved the immovable, yet again.
StoneTosser © 2006
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Goch
A memory echoes untended.
Once magic, now victim to
Heartless dreams,
Desperate wishes ~ tangled ~
Like words dead
in my throat.
I am lost.
I would die unspoken
But for time, my breath
Stirring it like fire
To cleave future from past,
Rattling loose ~ an imagining ~
A conjured moment
Unlike this one.
I am found.
StoneTosser (c) 2008
