Posted in the Daily Post: Evanescent
“In this life, all is Evanescent. Live for the now”
― Carlyle Labuschagne
Evanescent
Night is falling
Time is stalling
For the moment
All is calming
Before the storm
Is at the door
Posted in the Daily Post: Evanescent
“In this life, all is Evanescent. Live for the now”
― Carlyle Labuschagne
Evanescent
Night is falling
Time is stalling
For the moment
All is calming
Before the storm
Is at the door
Posted in the Daily Post: Evanescent
“In this life, all is Evanescent. Live for the now”
― Carlyle Labuschagne
Evanescent
Ice is breaking
The snow is melting
Everything is changing
For the better
Or for the worse
Posted in the Daily Post: Evanescent
“In this life, all is Evanescent. Live for the now”
― Carlyle Labuschagne
Evanescent
Through the looking glass
Take a peak at the past
It was never meant to last
Because time, is running fast
Posted in Mundane Monday
“There is no mundane dimension really,
if you have the eyes to see it, it is all transcendental.”
― Terence McKenna
Mundane Mondays
The sun has set
Posted in Mundane Monday
“There is no mundane dimension really,
if you have the eyes to see it, it is all transcendental.”
― Terence McKenna
Mundane Mondays
Sunshine until sunset
This is as good as it gets
Just put on your sun specs
And enjoy the scenery set
Posted in Seat Sunday
“If it’s the right chair,
it doesn’t take too long to get comfortable in it”
Robert De Niro
Seat in the Woods
If the bears can poop in the woods
There is really no reason why you shouldn’t
Leave the comfort of the hoods
To observe the critters of the deepest wood
And take a soft chair with you
Sit down and start feeling good!
Daylily By Sonya Lira. Go check out the site: sonyalira.com
This is our first Daylily of the year.
We moved some last year from the original bunch in the front yard to the backyard. What is so odd is the first to bloom this year was one in the backyard that we moved.

The Lily ~ By Maverick : Go check out the site; maverickmist.com

The Lily
by Mary Oliver
Night after night
darkness
enters the face
of the lily
which, lightly,
closes its five walls
around itself,
and its purse
of honey,
and its fragrance,
and is content
to stand there
in the garden,
not quite sleeping,
and, maybe,
saying in lily language
some small words
we can’t hear
even when there is no wind
anywhere,
its lips
are so secret,
its tongue
is so hidden –
or, maybe,
it says nothing at all
but just stands there
with the patience
of vegetables
and saints
until the whole earth has turned around
and the silver moon
becomes the golden sun –
as the lily absolutely knew it would,
which is itself, isn’t it,
the perfect prayer?