Introduction: Observations, reflections, memories.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One of my favorite sayings, attributed to Salvador Dali, was that he felt no more important than his paintbrushes. That is how I feel about the work presented here. My career has always been about inspiration, creativity and bringing ideas to life. Sculpture, applied art, works in the 3 D world. But poetry? Do real men read or write poetry? Perhaps the brunt of too many bad jokes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Within the past few years, my concerns have focused, or refocused on later in life considerations. The What we are, and not so much the Who we have been. To that end, the written word has become essential for the material some might call out there – a life, the universe, and everything perspective.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In the process of transitioning, I found it was necessary to condense some of these ramblings into smaller, bite-size concepts. Forcing more care and precision. One day, sitting at my desk, I observed a raindrop, on a branch, illuminated by the sun. In a few minutes, in five lines, the first poem in this offering came into being. Six months later, the outpouring of these poems began. I came to notice the world around me even more intently. To be able to open up to the creativity and resources that are available. To flow. And definitely to act as a channel to higher resources.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The poems included have a number of inspirations. Many being observations of the world around us. Questions and wondering why. Memories of course. Along with musings about life, and our place within it. Some reflective, some bittersweet, silly and serious. Perhaps more questions than answers, but hopefully they stimulate ideas and perspectives about who and what we are.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I\u2019ve taken the rough format of the Japanese haiku poems. In five lines, Quintains, in free verse, to preserve my freedom \/ sanity. Short, precise observations that set a tone, Zen like to capture a moment. Or like a Zen master giving a dozing monk a swat on the back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Alan Swanson Lancaster 8\/19\/21<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Introduction: Observations, reflections, memories. One of my favorite sayings, attributed to Salvador Dali, was that he felt no more important than his paintbrushes. That…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":770,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-761","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/attuningtoanewearth.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/761","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/attuningtoanewearth.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/attuningtoanewearth.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/attuningtoanewearth.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/attuningtoanewearth.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=761"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/attuningtoanewearth.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/761\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":804,"href":"https:\/\/attuningtoanewearth.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/761\/revisions\/804"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/attuningtoanewearth.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/770"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/attuningtoanewearth.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=761"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}} Moment\n\nSunlight in a drop of rain \nOn a small branch \nMoving with a breeze \nClings for a moment \nGone. Clarity <\/em> <\/strong>\n\n Awareness \n\nHollow tree, leaves still flourish Remembers its core Sapling basking in rain Bending naked with snow\nToday the new nest within<\/em>\n\n Now\n\nMist embracing a flower at first light Feels the Now of Creation In all ways new In all ways ancient Asking nothing Asking everything Time and space its shadows<\/em>\n\n Lost\n\nCircling ant, lost Remembers the path home So much to share Twig over garden rain To explore a new way<\/em>\n\n Dance\n\nMoth from leaf to leaf No nectar there Dancing for someone The melody of display I listen for the lyrics<\/em>\n\n Shadows\n\nFlowers shadow dance On my kitchen wall Noontime sun, how? Magic or science? The bee didn\u2019t care<\/em>\n\n Question\n\nA day in the sun. A day in the rain.\nDarkness at night.\nDoes the pine enjoy\nThe view from my window?<\/em>\n\n Sparrow\n\nToday, a single sparrow\nYesterday\u2019s flock attended\nAttention calls, wings depart\nDry bread from the open door\nAnother miracle, in time for lunch<\/em>\n\n Safe\n\nDark and light shades of green Solemn upright attention Birds never notice its breath Safe embrace, clutching branches Yield to their nighttime stirring<\/em>\n\n Letters\n\nInk on paper, black contrast\nFrom nowhere, letters to words\nSound in a time of stillness\nReminds the sleeping cat\nI have not left her alone<\/em>\n\n Morning\n\nWhatever opens the morning sun\nJoins me for another day\nLooking across the blanket seascape\nRemembers gold and galleons\nFrom lands far away<\/em>\n\n Reflection\n\nTry as I will, open as water\nRemembering grandmother\u2019s smile\nFills only so much within\nEons ago, light years away\nI pause at the reflection<\/em>\n\n Circle\n\nWe build with squares, right angle rules\nFlat and straight, honor to the machine\nNo longer straight, no longer right\nMy life now ruled by circles and curves\nSpirals carry me aloft, share me with the earth<\/em>\n\n Why\n\nChild\u2019s sponge needs nourishment\nMop the mind for food\nHow much can be rung out\nColor or sound, drops or gallons\nFather left me with a river<\/em>\n\n Whisper \n\nNew white page calls my name\nIn a whisper, I await the echo of why\nRecognize something, a calm reflection?\nEarth pulls, stars push, sun and rain needy\nHave I misplaced the color of spring?<\/em>\n\n Wonder\n\nMy name in some ancient script\nWashed away with sand - remains?\nWaiting for the wonder of another home\nBare feet needing the solace of a new earth\nHave I forgotten what the Buddha knows?<\/em>\n\nA.S. 7\/23\/21<\/strong>\n\n\n\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/pre>\n\n\n\n
<\/pre>\n\n\n\n
\n<\/pre>\n\n\n\n
<\/pre>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"