trees?

wow. just. wow.

Wow, thats really good, more please!!

Ang

thunder written thoughts
There is in every storm that passes over any landscape, a place of calm in the centre. That sometimes eerie moment of relief for the ground dwelling observer continues dynamic for the swirling cloud forms...
The eye of the storm ...
The landscape it observes below it ever changing. The storm brings the water...
The flow.
The feelings of being in the storm, hear ...and now,
Being part of the flow of the Chi of the Earth, rising to meet the overture of the sky above...
The place where static held static craves ionic release, connection to earth, the will to ground in solidity its creative potential...
So much rain, so much water...
And the wind blows...
Seeking balance, moving from areas of high to low pressure in the air, carried by the momentum of the cyles of Earth, pulled by the moon and the warmth of the great oceans of life that reach with wave crests to join the concert of elements seeking peace through the tempest swirls...
Shaking up the statics static state...movement and charge ... charge and discharge... forks of lightning embracing the rising of Earth to meet, a lovers connection so eager to connect ...
Awakening the energy held static beyond the clouds and chaos of wind and waters dance... the energy beyond emotion and mind...
So moving ... to witness the storm in its natural cyles of clearing the air,
Bringing life giving water ...
Meeting, clashing, re-solving and balancing the different pockets of pressures in the air...
Balancing Earth and sky, Sudden bursts and flurries and the calming rain that arrives to cleanse and salve and neutralise the landscapes of recent conflicts...making peace through expression of truest nature...movement to a calmer, more balanced place...
Calming rain that washes clean the air, revitalising the trees that reach their leaves to the reappearing sun whilst they remain so grounded in the Earth ... connected by strong spreading roots that respectfully support the bridge of life to the firey star that illuminates and inspires the nurturing Earth that we are.

As you allow your awareness may tune into the process that is happening...hear...the flow of time in space, without which there is nowhere for time to be... moving in closer now... the storm expresses itself in its natural process of balancing the pressures of the air... the thunder rumbles and booms... sounds of release and relief... from swirls of energy in the centre to the edge, from the outer reaches to the centre becoming again one with that which it seemed not to be a part until so obviously it always has been ... give or take away a little pressure here and then...
each release... each dissipation of the difference of pressure the clearer and calmer...a unifying of the fields of the sky and a continuation of the journey of water... the search for an ocean via the mountains with only gravity as a guide...observing... experiencing and learning from the shapes that contain and transport it... the water smoothing a channel for itself upon and within the mediums through which it flows...creating free flowing rivers and streams where once had been desert or stagnant pools... remembering each experience and absorbing the wisdom of each until each drop arrives again at the ocean meeting place... merging and meeting each other droplet of knowing until tempted by the warmth of the sun to fly once more... Such journeys on the wings of wind ... so exciting... the water to tell its stories... so many stories ... each drop having taken a unique path since last time they were one...different events witnessed different knowings learned ... no knowings not the knowings of experience known until meeting a knower of unfamiliar experience... the clash of worlds of mind ... the appreciation of the new and unknown as the staple of growth ... the thunder slows and the air finds peace in the richness of a diverse and sharing unity of individuals resonant enough ... balanced enough to appreciate differences via communication without barriers of right or wrong...just different experiences and different conclusions updating each other through shared perspective...each becoming the richer one that you always are and were...
As each pressure difference balances, free flow returns... more and more with each release...

Chilling

One fine Perth night by the pool
contemplating going back to school,
Jane and Si sat in deep meditation
observing equanimously every sensation.
Then all of a sudden the clouds did clear
and there was no more anguish and no more fear.
The clarity of the moment that can last forever,
we are who we are neither big nor clever.
From this peaceful, humble eternal place
we learned how not to run or chase
the dreams we hold within our hearts.
Life is a perpetual stream of brand new starts.
So the world we create each and every day
can be a garden where we can laugh and play,
knowing that belief in what we need
will bring us abundance in the absence of greed.
We don't need to know when the phone will ring
or what new connections each day will bring.
We just follow the cues we get from life
and gratefully recieve without trouble or strife.

*************
There was a young lady called Petal
with a secret penchant for heavy metal.
When out headbanging she went
to get her senses all bent
she found her stresses much easier to settle.

*************
There was a fat man called Si
who when eating his millionth pie
decided to diet
but when he tried it
decided it was pie in the sky.

***************
Time to Dream

The world around us seems so solid,
the global affairs so politically torrid.
It's so easy to believe that we have no power
to affect anything from building to flower.
The binding force of the first attention,
the conscious mind and our mental connection
to the belief that cause will equal effect
is merely a choice we don't know we elect.
"So convincingly solid seems the evidence."
we can say in myopic self defence
from our feelings that we must understand
that our life is the result of what we've planned.
"The non-physical is just the imagination!"
Such a commonly cried substitute for interpretation
of the signals we seek and draw to ourselves
to try to take our progress back off the shelves.
It is so easy to discount our clues
and accept our prison and all its blues.
The design is so clever, no locks and no bars.
We're trained to trap one another by collecting scars.
If we can break through the emotional traps and nets
and rise above the economic hedging of bets,
we can sometimes escape for a breathe of fresh air,
only to be dragged back to the fold by 'those who care'.
So what is the route to change this reality,
this beta wave addiction to human frailty?
The biggest clues are in our times of slumber
and the nocturnal sojourns that we can't quite remember.
So far from mental filing of daily information
our dreams are our natural second attention.
To expand our view of our range of activities,
we must delay waking return to mental proclivities.
A little more each and every day,
if we resist the alarm call of the established way,
we can keep ourselves in the in betweens
and start to understand what some of this means.
More often than not we have urgent thought.
Upon awakening we remember that we are taught
to shake off our restfull sleeping state
and return to accept our 'god given fate.'
My statement here is that we are not cogs in a machine.
Saving and raising energy is not being mean.
We can all strive for ownership of self
and discover inside our true strength and wealth.

********************

Funny Old Worlds

A funny old world it seems to be
for apes outgrown of vale and tree.
Cutting down what used to be home
before the insatiable urge to roam.
Some genetic selection and a little splicing,
made upright and hairless, new goals enticing.
The development of speech, logic and science,
manipulation made easy by rational compliance.
Very quickly came a description that all had to follow,
a bitter social pill for free spirit to swallow
but genetic rules condemn all the outsiders
to live somewhere else in the Bush with the flies and the spiders.
They cant' have them corrupting the way things are seen
and keep insiders so distant from what once they had been.
Now the majority who live by unconscious agreement
that the world is their way, minds set in cement,
have trouble with viewing another description.
Televisual images the maintaining prescription.
Some there are who curiosity betters
by history or near death, they fight their fetters.
But there is now no room for freedom to dwell
so beware all those who wish to rebel.
If you start down that track, you need to be sure
that you are prepared for the world and all you adore,
to fall away before your unblinking eyes.
The depth of the rabbit hole an eternal surprise.
There will come before then a junction of sorts
when choice is presented in mental reports
stating what you will lose to gain what you seek,
with no option to take the slightest pre-peek.
There is no defining the worlds we can find,
there is only the knowledge conceived by the mind
that the preparation is all about letting things go
and following your Spirit in constant flow.
The world you know will never be the same,
perception is such an emotional game.
You can still come back but never be home
and we are back to the insatiable urge to roam.
This time maybe a little more prepared
to not let one description leave us impaired
and bound to a reality that is good to visit
but sucks out your memory with the intention to limit.
Keep moving to ever greater awareness
'til the universe is you in all its completeness.
Watch out for the traps of collective description,
Its role is to control and mentally imprison.

*Sob*

I'm *sniff* not usually one for poetry but this... its so BEAUTIFUL. *sobs some more*

Honestly though, nice stuff

thanks

The Ankh

Walking along the river Ankh
I spied a gently resting plank
it lay across from waters edge
upon the surface like a ledge.
I tested it with my foot and weight.
It seemed to hold, it must be my fate
that I had the chance to walk on water
to take a gentle aquatic saunter.
So step I did out on a limb,
I threw a stone to make it skim.
It bounced three times and came to rest
but did not sink, It must be blessed.
It then occurred to my slow tick mind
that no blessing here was there to find
only that waste in the water supply
inspires natures harsh reply.
We site the midden and the well
safe distance between to avoid the smell
and ensure that we do not ingest
Typhoid and cholera and all the rest.
Sadly Roundworld has its version
of this tragic tale and its communal aversion
except that we in our questionable way
soil next door in exchange for pay.
So lovely and clean our water remains
while waste and all its inherent pains
is visited on the poorer folk
who surprisingly don't seem to get the joke.