Wine-stained memories, shards of which –long since extinct;
Money, time and memory’s folly,
Splintered picture can never be restored,
Crumpled dreams – broken glass and rubble;
Life repaired but what is lost remains lost.
Glance into the future – an unwritten history of what might be,
The hourglass continues to run its course,
What is unseen, unknown, remains lost to us
Unless we make it so: Create and Live!
Or sit and sup and wait to die.
Expectations of prior generations already drowned,
Fewer possibilities survive, – like seeds
The chance of life if only one would take and plant them
And take the time to let them grow,
Before winter comes and we are lost,
Our lives reduced to endless snow.
When I returned to the valley – my private gateway to another world
Sudden bombarding of the senses:
Heat and humidity press against the skin with palpable force
Cicadas form a wall of sound: an assault on the ears
The scent of jasmine and honeysuckle, of forest and dogs and bar-b-ques
Sometimes the distant scent of rain is carried on the breeze – smell connects with the touch of the wind, and a change in the barometer spells the knowledge, the taste of showers to come
Sometimes the welcome relief of a quiet shaded forest, cool and calm this hidden treasure
A sea of divergent greens, lush tree-lined valley walls: radiance of colour, the work a combination of nature and man
Ceiling of the deepest blues: a spectrum of azure, cerulean and cyan mixed with hues of ultramarine and thalo form a vivid mural, a thousand shades of blue line this pristine expanse of untroubled sky
Sights and sounds, the feel and smells at times combine to overwhelm the senses
Other times: the quiet beauty, the stillness, the calm, refreshing my soul
These hills, these trees, this sky, this valley and river- my pocket of the world
My quiet haven, my secret enclave, my sanctuary 5014.