Errant Shiny Things

errant shiny things the rook announces his theft with a caw and a flutter

the wind soothes your lost whispers you weren’t using them anyway

New idea are abundant and available to everyone willing to partake in silence and listen. But ironically is generally the crook of thieves with the loudest caw that claims ownership and glory. Not to worry ... too much attention is a punishment and a not a prize. The reward is returning to the font for yet another new idea.

Fireflies at Dusk

fireflies at dusk dandelion seeds lit rosé Fae masala

my evening tea spiced blissfully

Fireflies are rare these days; or so I am told. They have always been rare in these parts. But a good cup of tea and sky full of stars is often offer most evenings.

A thought I had to another poet's query on why people rarely react authentically.

July 6, 2025

It takes courage to be seen ... not everyone has courage ... people meet you from where they are. Artifice is an armour. They need it and do not appreciate it pierced. They do not want to feel vulnerable. They are not thriving; they are terrified and live life by the terms of a fickle world; fickle affection. They are not happy.

Truth is an onion in that is forever growing deeper layers. As soon as you peel pack one, there is another layer grown in its place; it is natural to feel a little scared before we go back in for more reveal and often more tears. When expectations are dropped ... greater bliss. I think:)

Note; the Onion metaphor is not mine. I could not however find the originator of the idea.

A Cloudy Prism

purple overcast A cloudy prism mem’ries smeared refracted mauve

As many of you may already know, I used to live in Vancouver. Winters are raining and overcast sunsets the norm. The city is accused of being gray; but I found it to be blue and then purple.

Brave Aviator

your wings are strong your wings are efficient finely-built and enduring but the universe is vast and you are minute with exploration beyond migration will you prove yourself grand my brave aviator

flowers are earth-bound fragrant and plentiful nectar is sweet petals are always inviting dew is cleansing but seasons are short soon blooms wither leave you alone and aloof

boredom and decay there must be more to having wings than minding a nest

orbs hang in the cosmos beckoning aurae gravitational fascination you want to see them close see pinhole lights expand pulsate and explode

icy prismatic jewels immense chromatic ores molten gaseous marbles such beauty, no warmth or too much, but always so far away