“He who wonders discovers that this in itself is wonder.” M.C. Escher
A Sign Of My Own Pieces of life lay spread before me, morsels for the wanderer, flesh, bone, fur just as the hawk had left them, scattered, were they for me? This sadness of pieces a sign of my own fractured self, scattered, as a stranger in this place. Copyright 2023 ©️Paul Vincent Cannon All Rights Reserved ®️
Filed under awareness, bush walking, Free Verse, life, nature, poem, quote
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Words from Angela.
My original blog got too big. Time to downsize.
Serving The Family Caregiver
Videos and Music with Subliminal Joy affirmation meditation
Everything Organic
Poetry and Flash Fiction
Words from Angela.
My original blog got too big. Time to downsize.
Serving The Family Caregiver
Videos and Music with Subliminal Joy affirmation meditation
Everything Organic
Poetry and Flash Fiction
parallax 
A graphic portrait of our own brokenness…
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Sometimes the signs that we see have deep meanings.
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Excellent use of metaphor!
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The more I get to know the true nature of “this place” ~ one in which we may never leave wholeness behind as our gift but only mangled pieces of it, chewed over and desecrated by animal, insect and element ~ the gladder I am to know myself a lifelong stranger here. We’ll party more happily together at the next stop, you and I…
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I like this looking at oneself from the outside… the whole or parts.
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