Not The Rockefellers

within the call of the mourning dove there is a low swooping note that mimics the fall of an oak leaf; a grain of wheat burrowing into the ground Rene ~ 2013 For Susie's  prompt to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads ,  The Secret Life of Bees , and inspired by a quote from the book by Sue Monk Kidd: “It was the oldest sound there was. Souls flying away.”

image via magpie tales i'm uncomfortable around nattering restlessness deafened by the frenetic buzz  of earth movers and universe shakers i do not blend well  into the mandatory neon light and i prefer the robust charm of root vegetables over clever concoctions  whipped up by chemists in chefs clothing i am a child of the green gold sod a product of   a washerwoman's holiday i understand  the persistence of need i believe in the dedication of want Rene ~ 2013

The Moth and the Lamp, Cesar Santos ( via Magpie Tales) you are close to an almost honest creation of the true love i've been seeking rene ~ 2013

Cadillac Mountain, Acadia National Park, ME~Photo by Rene 2013 i want  to go where your mind wanders and find you i haven't figured out the rest rene ~ 2013

map image via Magpie Tales a way was made land swept, as if by hand, then scooped and sucked into life arching upward eagerly knitting itself onto  the mother bones children crisscrossed and dotted the wild, new heaven pressing would-be treasures into the earth working their way east tipping their maps a wise man built a white house of shining stone leaving the locks off of the doors he welcomed all guests, in their mother tongues, with arms full of leeks and blessed all creatures, great and small, north of Hadrian's Wall, right where they stood Rene ~ 2013 Ninian's Umbrella on a hill, in the rain Ninian read his bible licking his finger as he turned each page

change  comes swiftly though for some a gradual slide as math evolves; fingers to head Rene ~ 2013

go on  an' eat your  cake on your  pretty  little plate cross  your fingers at your  ankles beautiful  fools get the best of  everthin' hid  under the  skins of careless lovers did your momma  teach you that, when she taught you  how to pray ? did your daddy  praise you when you bat  yo' eyes? you draw them in with your satin  on their sin make them weep with your  sighs go on  an' hook their  arms with your clever little  charms tell them  stories 'bout your conquests you're a child  of god jus' doin' her  daddy's work say it  enough you'll start  believin' did your momma teach you that, when she taught you  how to pray ? did your daddy praise you when you  bat yo' eyes? you draw them  in with your satin  on their sin sweet little  lambs flock to lies Rene ~ 2013

i pray that we always see, in the darkest hour, the magnificence within us oh please kiss me like this is the last night on earth and i finally smiled at you and we'll run with hearts blazing exhaling hellfire  brave locomotive disciples Rene ~ 2013

bed headed dandelion  sunshine freckles spill out from  hole-in-the-bucket  cereal bowl daydreams tripping on shoelaces  winding gloriously green eyed  and untied jungle vines tangled up and tugging fists full  of nobody's home  knock knock jokes giggled  to a  monkey playing matchbook  love songs  on a tinker toy  piano  close your eyes and sing along unbelievably  off key     into the stracciatella  cirrus sky let it go kick out all the tent pegs and let it flow  Rene ~ 2013 Art by Jeanie Tomanek via Magpie Tales