The Sharp Press of Days

In the sharp press of days
Leaves
Golden glow
Bare branch
Brown crackle

In the sharp press of days
Razor bright
Cold snap
Summer’s blue haze
Fades
Into winter’s hard edge

In the sharp press of days
Squirrels and birds
Play
Life and death games
Storing
Fuel and food
Hoarding hope for spring

In the sharp press of days
Grown short
Sunlight precious and
Fleeting

In the sharp press of days
Families bundled
Carved pumpkins, turkeys and
Praise

In the sharp press of days
Wind scours face
Freezes cheeks
Creates and
Erases
Tears

In the sharp press of days
I watch
I listen
I speak

Of the sharp press of days.

*****
So much drops in for me when I am in motion or connected to water - long walks, dancing, washing dishes, taking a shower, riding the subway - things that occupy part of my thinking mind just enough to allow space for daydreams to slip in sideways and burrowing thoughts to connect.

Wandering around my neighborhood, along familiar paths, I find everything is new and surprising. There are always things I never noticed before, or forgot in the haze of my own thoughts. I find myself collecting images, words, and objects on my daily walks and they are starting to tell me what they want to be combined and layered into.

I'm in the studio today experimenting with some first layers for a piece to accompany the poem fragment above. Molding paste and dried leaves on wood mark my starting place. Progress pics will be forthcoming (one is already up on DreamscapesInk).

I'm curious.

What are you noticing today as you walk or drive from place to place?

When and where do you find inspiration and connection?

What is both new and familiar?

I'd love to hear from you.