Dreaming Existence

This song has been running through my brain since I awoke this morning; and although the song writer may have had another inspiration, all forms of art inspire each of us in different ways. As I scrolled through my images, this one struck me as the way my soul is feeling about life right now.  The world is still so full of beautiful things while Nature continues her struggle to be brilliant and survive our ever increasing brutal assault against her without conscience. Still,  there is something decidedly different about life in these times, something... less . There seems to be less brilliance, less exuberance, less enthusiasm, a lack of vibrance and energy...a lack of color . Is it my eyes, seeing the world I love through the haze of  disenchantment? I often feel alone in trying to shine on through the dismal outlook of the masses.. as they tremble under the watchful gaze of the hungry that wait for the smoke to clear, eager to feed. I feel cast out, adrift on a sea of vast hope and w

 Please.... A most perfect Pomegranate Old Fashioned at Yard House. Ahhh... But this has not always been the case. In my very early days of alcohol adventures (we won’t say how early) I preferred milder cocktail selections, many of them way too sweet. I found out later in life that the sugar and alcohol mix are the perfect recipe for hangovers-as well as learning that sugar is basically evil, so I moved on. But, I digress. My first foray into the world of booze was a Vodka Collins, but I can spell that one.  😜 Then there were the good old daiquiri on the rocks, made with (ugh) clear Rum. That was another standard for me in the early days. It would be a few years before I was introduced to the frozen fruity dessert drink that bears the same name. Now, drinking those sneaky devils has proved much easier than writing about them, and to this day that word remains the one that I will inevitably have to always research for the correct spelling. I wanted to add a ‘c’ or leave out that first

 This one seems appropriate to me right now.  There’s got to be a morning after if we can hold on through the night. We have a chance to find the sunshine, let’s keep on looking for the light.  It’s not too late we should be giving only with love can we climb.. It’s not too late not while we’re living, let’s put our hands out in time. Oh can’t you see the morning after. We’re moving closer to the shore. I know we’ll be there by tomorrow and we’ll escape the darkness, we won’t be searching anymore.... I chose this version of her live performance during the 1988 MD telethon because I always admired Jerry Lewis and his efforts to support the Muscular Dystrophy Foundation. I volunteered at several locations as a teenager to man phones, make and fetch coffee and anything else that needed to be done. We need to get back to the busyness of life, of caring and sharing what is important, of lifting one another up rather than constantly tearing each other down. The world needs to reflect the inn

 I am always in awe of the beauty of Nature and am enamored of things with wings. Lately the Ibis have been close. It amazes me that they have such blue eyes...and that inner eyelid that can sometimes be caught with a very quick shutter! 😉 Hello sweetheart.. There’s that ‘nictitating’ eyelid. 🤭 Made me think of another Ole Blue Eyes...this one just seems appropriate in these days.

  Where is the clarity that once was me? I held it firmly in my grasp only hours ago. My mind is a blur and the world a whir of inconsistent incongruity of poorest quality. Free falling I grope for the elusive rope of sanity that defined my purpose in living. The world seems to be of low to  medium  quality, although with every breath I whisper words of hope. My mantra now and always “Seek your joy in all the days” for each could be the last you’ll know its gifts. Of late I’m feeling older as humanity grows colder- a pale reflection of  myself without direction.  Doppelgängers, she and I, in battle for the me and my that guide ourselves into our destiny.  Medium defines it well as far as either one can tell. We patiently observe and wait  for wonderful to slay the Awful beast.  Then, arising, we devour  every new and waking hour- a Phoenix from the ash of   dark and dour. CKP copyright words and image 2020   Today’s post is in response to  Linda Hill’s prompt ‘medium’

The angels are crying in heaven tonight, but their tears go unheard as we bicker and fight. Their hearts are so heavy, they’ve got tears in their eyes for the loud angry voices that rise to whisper lies. The angels are crying in heaven tonight cuz they can’t understand why we follow the depths of darkness, missing the rainbow in the sky. Why can’t we find the light  and end the useless fight, for none but death shall win as it walks us to the end so that Earth might live again in Peace.  Mother Nature is our friend yet we, but dust in the wind, wage war upon her face as we promote such a disgrace as hatred, greed and apathy- whence comes that sweet epiphany to save us from erase? The angels weep As we, asleep, create a nightmare from the dream. I took an hour yesterday to put my feet upon the sand and whisper to the ocean, apologizing to this Earth for the ugliness that the human race has inflicted upon her soul when she offers such sweet gifts. If crawling pests invade your home, you