Tanks Turks

Bends

Cottonned
Wooly
Batten
Down

Like

Buried
Living
Under
Ground

Like

Diving
Deep
Pressure
Round

Don’t
Surface
Too
Fast
She
Says.

We’ll
Breathe
Together.
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© WhatHabit Co. and Words For Leaving, 2010 to 2014. All rights reserved.

IMG_0564.JPG

Fall

Has anyone
In the world
Been flattened
Been crushed
Down
The wind
Knocked
Out?

It happened
When I fell
Flying too fast
And missed the bar
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© WhatHabit Co. and Words For Leaving, 2010 to 2014. All rights reserved.

Bridge

Upward

Madness looked her in the eye,
Midway suspended there,
On sagging slack and swinging path,
It blocked the single stair.

Unleashed it then a mighty blow,
That sucked the breath from lungs,
And stumbling back through broken slats
She slipped, and there she hung

Entangled in the fraying ropes,
She lurched and flailed and lunged,
While madness, hugely entertained,
Continued with its fun.

As leapt and roiled and shook the bridge
She thought at last to sit
And close her eyes, so’s not to glimpse
The chasm’s deadly pit.

In calm she found her purchase fast,
And fin’ly shaking stood,
Then movingly slowly, slow ahead
While madness on her looked.

Then outstretched a hand proffered
The ancient malcontent,
But strengthened each successive step
Said “no!” and on she went.

Another half bridge lay ahead
Who knew how she’d survive
The ancient road it’s perils great
And madness just behind.

But more than madness knows that bridge
‘Tween countless births and ends,
So stronger, braver, wiser she,
The upwards climb ascends.
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I have always planned to take long hike through ancient sacred mountain realms of Peru. When I do, I intend to walk the rope bridge rather than take the paved road.

© WhatHabit Co. and Words For Leaving, 2010 to 2014. All rights reserved.

IMG_1186.JPG

Dahlia

“How is it
You can lose
So many petals
And still
Look whole?”,
Said Single Rose, baffled,
To Dahlia.

 

 

 
© WhatHabit Co. and Words For Leaving, 2010 to 2014. All rights reserved.

Lake Agnes Teahouse

Guide

Here shall I sit
And rest awhile.
You will come out
Of the darkness,
And I shall see your face.
You will lift me up,
And show me the road
That lies hidden
In the dark, dark night.
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I took this picture on the way back from the Lake Agnes Teahouse in Lake Louise, AB. It’s a moderate difficulty 3-4 hour hike, with breathtaking views and lovely break for tea at the top.
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© WhatHabit Co. and Words For Leaving, 2010 to 2014. All rights reserved.

Sunrise

Glance

I am not
A collector of facts,
Of labels and numbers,
Opinions and stats.

Rather, I thunder
With each beating heart,
And I mostly remember
The in between parts:

The unspoken beauty,
The fears and the queries,
The passions and stances,
Surreptitious glances.

The nanos and micros,
The human array,
Of language unspoken
Is what I tuck away.

© WhatHabit Co. and Words For Leaving, 2010 to 2014. All rights reserved.

Peach Tree Pink Blossom

Peach

The peach,
Hanging taut and dewy,
Just within reach,
Or beyond,
To fully realize
Its potential
Must be picked,
And eaten,
Full fleshy,
Ripe, and juicy
Delight.

© WhatHabit Co. and Words For Leaving, 2010 to 2014. All rights reserved.

Jean François, Gleaners, 1837

Fierce

Jean François, the Gleaners, 1857, Public Domain
Jean François, Gleaners, 1837

I know you,
Each one.
You reappear,
Each generation’s wave,
Your back, strong.
Your shoulders, wide.
Your smile,
Oh, your smile,
Like mother.
At times,
Like sister.
But always,
Friend.
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Fierce,
Fast,
Friend.
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I loved this image of women working. It is produced from a painting by Jean François The Gleaners, (1857). These women are scouring the fields for millet left over from the first harvest. It was posted on Everyday Heroes.
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© WhatHabit Co. and Words For Leaving, 2010 to 2014. All rights reserved.

Intersections (used with permission)

Olympus

http://www.navidbaraty.com/gallery.php?gallery_id=13#
http://www.navidbaraty.com/gallery.php?gallery_id=13#

We,
Unsurprisingly,
Standing at the summit,
Imagine ourselves,
Gods.
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Thank you, photographer Navid Baraty, for your generosity in allowing me to use your breathtaking photo. You can find this and more of Navid’s work on his website. Navidbaraty.com
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© WhatHabit Co. and Words For Leaving, 2010 to 2014. All rights reserved.

Mi Nana y Yo, Frida Kahlo

Shadow Mother

Like a vapour, or a veil
Or a scrim that shades detail,
She deceives and she confines,
She interferes and undermines.
With dark intent and appetite
For infant flesh and soul alike,
She appeared in her disguise
As mother dear to lonely eyes.

And thus the witch, she passed the test,
Replacing mother’s tender breast
With poisoned cup, she gave her fill,
Enough to bind, but not to kill.
With fevered brow and little screams
The girl awakened from her dreams.
A constant presence dark and dread,
A terror looming o’er her bed.

The child soon became the bride.
The great seductress by her side
Cast her ancient, stinking web,
Ensnaring groom and wedding bed.
So passed the time and mother dear
Enchanted both, but secret fears
Of something hidden, undefined,
Began to surface in their minds.

Then to their joy, a child was born,
Their fears forgot, or worse, ignored.
Meanwhile the liar set her trap
Taking the child on her lap.
The boy, the father, he perceived
The perfect mother, for his seed.
The circle drawn, the stars aligned,
And it was blissful, for a time.

The child’s mother, still would quake
Under the terror, stirred awake
By memories old and horror deep.
She could not turn her mind to sleep,
So went to look in at her child,
To sit and hold her babe awhile.
And there the witch, the shadow dread
Stood o’er the crib, then turned her head.

“Mother dear!”, at first, she cried,
But when the ancient visage spied,
She flung the curtains to the side,
And called the dawn to come inside.
The husband burst in from the hall
Protecting mother, child, all.
But his perspective showed him two,
The perfect mother, mother new.

The boy , the father split in two,
The witch, she claimed the first, and flew.
The husband fell, the hero dead,
The mother staggered to the bed.
She clutched the baby, held her fast,
The scales had fallen off at last,
And on her knees, she wailed her grief,
The truth, the decades lived asleep.

And from her deepest, searing pain,
She found the strength to live again.
And time, it healed their broken hearts,
Released their fears, dispelled the dark,
But still the witch, she holds the boy
Her golden captive, child toy,
Her poison daily she applies
And keeps him smiling, by her side.
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This is an image of the painting “Mi Nana y Yo”, My Nurse and I, painted in 1937 by Frida Kahlo. The painting is part of a study posted on Frida Kahlo Fans. While not directly correlated to the story behind Frida’s painting, this image evokes an additional layer of knowing for those less inclined to learn from words.
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© WhatHabit Co. and Words For Leaving, 2010 to 2014. All rights reserved.

Motes of experience suspended in moments of light.

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