
the constructs of man,
the smartest of apes,
arise from the ground
in arboresque shapes,
betraying perhaps
a wish that he could
return to the trees,
and trade metal
for wood.
–photo by son aaron

the constructs of man,
the smartest of apes,
arise from the ground
in arboresque shapes,
betraying perhaps
a wish that he could
return to the trees,
and trade metal
for wood.
–photo by son aaron

it’s another beautiful day in paradise
and i’m just glad to be alive
but then, trump
i feel pretty good for an old man
and i am so grateful for that
but then, trump
i feel my spirit igniting
and perhaps i’ll take a walk
but then, trump
sorry about all this–
i was going to write something good
but then, well, you know
–photo by me

the sudden blossoms
restore my faith in nature–
a pleasant surprise
–photo by me

when taking
family photographs,
here’s one thing
that i’ve found:
there’s alway some jerk who laughs
and horses around.
–photo by me

If there’s even the slightest chance that humankind is poised on the edge of some Great Awakening, a higher frequency, the Age of Aquarius, then I think it might be in our best interest to try stepping forward, as one, into it. You know, just to be certain that it’s not true.
So, altogether now, let’s take that step: lay down your sword, let go of that anger, racism, bigotry. Stop believing ‘in’ Jesus, and start believing what Jesus said. Follow the Golden Rule, and love one another. See all of humanity as one.
Yes, we should at least try it, don’t you think so? What could it hurt? Are you ready now? Here we go. One, two, three, go!
Now, if we could just get everyone in the world to read this.
–Photo by Aaron

ocean waves crash
upon sandy beaches–
an ancient pulse
that we all know.
our hearts slow
as our bodies try
to beat as one
with mother earth.
–photo by son, aaron

the bird struts his stuff
on big black rubbery feet–
what a silly goose!
photo by me

when it’s time to die,
i hope it happens at home–
here, in the forest
and so deep among the pines,
that nature can take its course
–photo by me

shall we wish
upon distant stars
to make our
dreams come true
when there’s one in our back yard
that would surely do?
–photo by me

a hidden stream is wrested
from the verdant vegetation
and tumbles noisily down
a set of cool stone steps,
giving voice to the secrets
of its endless, cyclic travels.
secrets of strange lands
and thunderstorms and seas.
secrets–now borne on
the whispering wind.
–photo by aaron