Inspiration From Looking Down

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A Stone On The Ground.

What first catches our eye
Might not be what we need to see
Just the attraction
To show us the Truth within the Beauty.

When I took this photo I was relaxing in a garden.  Having looked up and around at all the beauty of Nature, I glanced down. There at my feet was the most beautiful refreshing “arrangement” of fallen pieces of Nature’s bloom.  After drinking it in, I took this photo.
A couple days later I looked at the photo,  and saw the stone. That is what I needed to see.

Inspiration sometimes comes from looking down.

Offshoots Of A Building

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Poking out of the exterior
Hanging on for dear life
Overlooking the water
Underscoring the picture
Of a building.

Offshoots.

Shooting out of the structure
Sticking tightly to the frame
Staggering in their position
Unbalancing the view
Of a building.

Offshoots.

Like missiles at the ready
Like projectiles rejected by the body
Like addendums and afterthoughts
To a hasty conception
Of a building.

Offshoots.

Making all seem accidental
Unplanned
A mere sketch, an artists’ draft
A scheming scam
Of a building.

Offshoots.

Sprouting pridefully
Disdaining the surroundings
Arrogantly strutted
Daring one to challenge,
To contest
The right of its support
To be where
Where once was a litttle open space
For thorns or berries and rocks and grass
And creatures unknown.
Where the wind did blow
Cooling, refreshing, reprieving
The bank on which it stands.

Offshoots
Of a building
Development
Housing –
An incomparable reminder
Of what is lost.

Along The Canal At Dusk

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I walk along the canal at Dusk
Oftentimes.

Oftentimes I walk along the canal at Dusk
Thinking.

Thinking oftentimes as I walk along the canal at Dusk about Life.
My life.

My life oftentimes seems to me as I walk along the canal at Dusk,
To be caught up in others’ lives.

Others’ lives, not my own, not my others .Or so I think as I walk
Along
The canal at Dusk.

The canal, at Dusk, reminds me of things I have not experienced.
Historical memories, not my own.

Not my own images of Times and Tales past
But caught up in mine, begging to belong
As I walk alone
Along the canal at Dusk.

Along the canal at Dusk, I try to understand the Tales, the images of Times past
And what might be their relevance
To me.

To me.

Along the canal at Dusk.