Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow!

"Snowfinity ..."

@2012 Copyrighted Photograph.  All Rights Reserved: Isabelle Black Smith.

“Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow”

To put to rest a sleepless night
Mother Nature sends our way
A blanket glowing pristine white:
Shimmering fractals interweave
The world about in innocence anew;
Whilst weeping hearts eagerly
Greet a thoughtless reclination,
A sleep, at last, lost to hibernation.
So yield the weary, drinking willfully
From nature’s over-brimming chalice
Of sweetest icy, silver-thorned libation.
And with a single sip the world resigns,
With awe-inspiring, albeit silent
Resignation, to peacefully renew:
Awaiting the robin’s timely return,
With Kiss of Life to sleeping trance undo.

@2013 December, Copyrighted Poem. All Rights Reserved:  Isabelle Black Smith.

Got Sand in My Soul ...

@Copyrighted Image & Poem, Isabelle Black Smith.

February 2013, All Rights Reserved.

Just some words that seemed to drift to together after to listening to country song about sand ...

Time is a flowing river made of sand?

An in-the-moment reflection upon Time, pondering mortal(?) perceptions of this elusive entity from a personal perspective ... how time affects who we are, who we have been, who we are capable of becoming?  As for a "void of reason" ... my thinking here is that the void of reason comes from without, a world slowly strangling itself, perhaps?  These are just the words that found their way out in the moment ... A friend of mine says, let it out, write down,  let it sit and then go back and mull it over.  Great advice, I've found!

  

To see a world in a grain of sand ...

"To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour."  ~William Blake

 

"God's-Eye"

 

@Copyright Image, January 2013.  All Rights Reserved:  Isabelle Black Smith.

 

  

The Death, it finally came ...

“A Winter’s Death”


The death it finally came
This cold and foggy,
Lonely winter day.
Somber silence, enveloped
Completely … repletely,
Filling up the empty wanting
To unexpectedly console.
Imbibing sullen respect
From Winter’s icy libation,
The death it came in absence
Of the ceremonial pomp
Afforded the turgid seasons.
In the absence of all emotion
It simply was …
For it had been too long coming.


@Copyrighted Poem, January 2013.
All Rights Reserved: Isabelle Black Smith

Kissed By Raindrops ...

This poem was written many decades ago, but I have just recently been able revisit my words of so very long ago ... found them in an old brown box I'd been carrying around from place to place --with each move-- but somehow I never seemed to have the time (courage?) to open the box.   Finally strong enough to share them here with you now …

Image Source

“Kissed By Raindrops”

Outside Pouring Rain,
Angels' tears
Trickle down
To puddles …
Ripples echo
Dripping drops’
Sweet refrain.
Inside a storm begins
Its raging:
Tears in me
Welling up,
Bleeding pain,
Suppressing
Echoes that remain.
Walls are closing
In …
Have to run …
Fast and far.
Where doesn’t really matter.
Just run to where
You can’t follow me.
Barefoot running,
No one’s coming:
Running hard,
Right on through
The pounding pain …
Run, run, run till I can’t
Run no more.
Collapsing into
Tear-soaked puddle,
Angels' tears …
They draw me close
And hold me dear.
Touch me ever-so
Tenderly where fear resides.
Their faith abides,
Wash away the pain.
With Angel kisses renewing,
My inner storm subsides
... And on my way
Back home
I find myself, somehow,
Dancing softly in the gentle rain.

@Copyrighted Poem: Isabelle Black Smith, October 2012. All Rights Reserved.

[Needed some typing translation ... My brain often flies faster than my fingers can keep up with.  I read these words here again and I wonder how much my writing has changed since then?  How much have I changed since then?  How long will I leave this up here?

There is an unwritten line at the end ... "Hopeful that one day I'll find my voice to sing again."   A decade++ later, I still haven't found that voice, my voice to sing again, but I'm still hopeful ...  ]



... Early A.M.:  Still awake.  Bad headache.  Listening to music, fiddling around with words off & on.  Came up with this to "compare" to my write above, from younger days ...

“Raindrops”

Clearing Angels’ sublime vision.
Cascade of tear-dropped
Viscous tension …
Fluid encapsulated,
Heaven’s knowing
transcends perfection.
Silent prayers raining down.
Frequency and intensity varying,
Echoing pitter-patter marrying:
Pouring forth to renew,
Heaven’s subtle reminder that
All that is heard need not be spoken.
 

@Copyrighted Poem: Isabelle Black Smith, November 2012. All Rights Reserved.

 

Anonymously Captured ....

One of my first ever photographs on this photographic journey.

"Morning Has Broken"

 

[Compliments to Blogger here:  My photos always look so great with your viewing

 software.  Not always the case with other applications that I use on-line.]

“Anonymously Captured”


Not in search of honor or high praise,
Don’t want recognition all ablaze.
Simply seeking snapshots far and few:
Look through my lens and renew.
Joyful sharing of beauty that abounds,
Serendipitous moments to astound!
With ‘unseen’ world: perpetually enraptured.
Forever suspended, freezing space in time,
An ever-unfolding story with child-like rhyme …
My window on the world: anonymously captured.


@Copyrighted Poem: Isabelle Black Smith, Nov. 1, 2012.  All Rights Reserved.





This pretty much sums up my philosophy on my photography.  To my way of thinking, why would I waste your time showing you that which you could already see with your own two eyes?

Asynchronous Beat ...

Trying to write an upbeat, "happy" poem for Autumn today.  The poem started its flowing out rather nicely, but somewhere along the way the restlessness in me started to sing --like an unruly child-- with a counter-posing asynchronous beat.  So I wound up throwing my hands up in utter defeat!?!  Seems  Autumn will have to take the back seat to the restlessness within me ....

"Ridophe", By Edward Reginald Frampton

(Image Courtesy of Artmagick)

"Asynchronous Beat"

There is an unsettling in me.
An unsettling that will find its way out.

Hiding behind voices of reason.
Whispering taunts of treason.

Shadows of doubt.
Inside, outside,
Right-side out?

Which way is UP?
Who is me?
No longer content to just be:
Standing on my edge, with a
Secret longing to be FREE ....



@Copyrighted Poem, October 2012. All Right Reserved:  Isabelle Black Smith.




Sometimes, the most brilliant people have the most persuasive demons? ; )  Going for a run ...

And I'm back and happy to report that I was able to finish my 'Autumnal' write after all.  Not my most brilliant work, but the completion of my formal, structured Autumnal serenade represents a personal triumph for me on a number of different levels.  And hey, I found something 'constructive' to occupy the unruly child in me ... So it's all good? 

 

A dear friend of mine reminded me of the soothing, soulful writings of the poetic W. B. Yeats today.  Nobel Prize Winner, poet, playwright, painter and politician, but first and foremost an Irishman with fiery passion and heart. Here is one of my favorites by this talented artist.  Followed by a musical renditon of the same by the talented Lorenna McKennitt.  Enjoy ...

"Moonlight Reflections"

@Copyrighted Photograph.  All Rights Reserved: Isabelle Black Smith.

The Stolen Child
by W. B. Yeats
Where dips the rocky highland Of Sleuth Wood in the lake, There lies a leafy island Where flapping herons wake The drowsy water rats; There we've hid our faery vats, Full of berrys And of reddest stolen cherries. Come away, O human child! To the waters and the wild With a faery, hand in hand, For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand. Where the wave of moonlight glosses The dim gray sands with light, Far off by furthest Rosses We foot it all the night, Weaving olden dances Mingling hands and mingling glances Till the moon has taken flight; To and fro we leap And chase the frothy bubbles, While the world is full of troubles And anxious in its sleep. Come away, O human child! To the waters and the wild With a faery, hand in hand, For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand. Where the wandering water gushes From the hills above Glen-Car, In pools among the rushes That scarce could bathe a star, We seek for slumbering trout And whispering in their ears Give them unquiet dreams; Leaning softly out From ferns that drop their tears Over the young streams. Come away, O human child! To the waters and the wild With a faery, hand in hand, For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand. Away with us he's going, The solemn-eyed: He'll hear no more the lowing Of the calves on the warm hillside Or the kettle on the hob Sing peace into his breast, Or see the brown mice bob Round and round the oatmeal chest. For he comes, the human child, To the waters and the wild With a faery, hand in hand, For the world's more full of weeping than he can understand. (Poem courtesy of poets.org)

Song:  "Stolen Child", By Loreena McKennitt




God Bless and keep the man who picks me up when the little child in me falls completely apart once again.

Judgment Should Be a FOUR-Letter Word ...

Sometimes I forget that just because I am about Peace, Love and Understanding (Non- Judgment) that doesn’t mean that others in this world are coming at me from the same angle. Just because I choose not to judge others does not mean that they won’t judge me in return. Sometimes those wake-up calls catch me off-guard and maybe that makes them hurt all the more?

Sadly if I had to name the one thing that is WRONG with world today, I would have to say that it was unequivocally: JUDGMENT. In my eyes judgment is at the root of all that ails us in our personal lives, families, communities, cities, states … nations. To my way of thinking judgment lies at the root all evil: materialism, racism, chauvinism, favoritism … to name a top few. Judgment is perhaps at the core of our human nature, but in order to evolve on a spiritual level we must overcome judgment and begin to move beyond.

Most days I have a dreamer's hope for the world, but on days like today I look at the world and see a world slowly strangling itself and it grieves me greatly …





“Scales of Disillusionment”


Coldness of metal rests hungrily beneath icy feet.
Twirling fan above
warbles in a feigned breath of lifeless air.
Intermittent slicing splinters superficial light.
Disillusionment yields a limited sight.
Close my eyes to wonder if I’m still here?
Is anybody else awake out there?
Too tired to even sigh … Breath won’t come?
Fuzzy mind’s now incapable of pondering why.
Weight of the world once seemed to balance
My scale, but day’s growing longer now.
Slowly slipping into the inevitable pale.
Wisdom of ageless sages can’t prevail.


@Isabelle Black Smith. 2012.

Image Source

I have often said that “I think perhaps our truth is that we live in black and white

while dreaming in color.” ~Isabelle Black Smith

Song: "Sensible Heart", By City & Colour

7/28/2015  I have been reflecting on the concept of judgment as outlined above and it now occurs to me that a necessary distinction should be made between "judgment" and  the notion of "assessment."  To my way of thinking assessment is at times required in order to make subsequent decisions from an informed position.  Take for expample the election process.  It is entirely reasonable, if not a useful necessity, for a voter/constituent to assess the record of a candidate before casting his/her vote for or against said candidate in an election.  The latter assessment helps to ensure "accountability" in government.  Similarly, assessment of one's immediate surroundings, at any given point in time, can help to minimize risk of serious harm or injury.  And there are likely countless other examples.  So how might one quantify the distinction between and assessment vs. outright judgment?  Perhaps, merely that the former produces a useful byproduct while the latter does not?

Getting Lost in the Music ...

Image Source

“Feel The Music”


Falling, falling, free-falling: effortlessly lost in airborne, unwinding spiral.
Feel music’s intense energy pulse, penetrate and soothe: I’m going viral.
Getting lost in harmonious echoes of resonating ebb and endless flow.
Untethered release, begs repeat, I’m taking flight and finally letting go.



@Copyrighted Poem, August 2012. All Rights Reserved: Isabelle Black Smith.




♪♪♪Song:  You have to decide that one for yourself.  Find your own resonant frequency ...

Spirit Dance ...

"The Middle Ground"

@Copyrighted Photograph.  All Rights Reserved: Isa Black Smith.

“Spirit Dance:  Night Owl”

These chains that bind me
Are loosed at night
And there my spirit dances,
Wild and free.

If you seek me, find me there,
Always by way of the silhouette.
Ouroborus, borne again and again.

These chains that bind me
Are loosed at night
And there my spirit dances,
Wild and free.

Tonight the Owl met the Eagle's gaze.

Looked him square within the eye.

Now the mystics dance,

Wild and free.

Homeward bound,

Pure in spirit,
Freed from earthly care,
Flying wild and free,
Borne upon ethereal wings
At long last my spirit sings.

@Isabelle Black Smith, August 2012.



This write was the bounce back --a need to escape and reconnect with the Divine ruling balance-- from writing another poem: "Old Brown Box."  The latter poem was written after finally finding the courage to re-open a tattered old, brown cardboard box that I've lugged around for years and years, always hiding it away in the back of each new closet.  I actually didn't consciously remember exactly what was inside the box when I pulled it out into the light a few days back.  Opening this box was like instantaneously reliving all the pain, within a matter of minutes, all over again.  I had forgotten that I had so hastily thrown so many of my deep dark secrets into a simple cardboard box ... Well, I poured my tears out into the aforementioned poem,"Old Brown Box", but I don't think I'll be sharing that poem here, save to say it felt like "crying someone else's tears."  Think maybe there's a country song in there?  Crying someone else's tears ...

My new favorite word ...

My new favorite word:  Quixotic.  Such a fabulous word, wouldn't you agree????? Love it!

..."extravagantly chivalrous or romantic" ...

Now there's something you don't often find nowadays?

I've always wanted to read this tale, "Don Quixote", by Cervantes.  Might just be my next read.



Happy almost FRIDAY, ya'll!  Do something impulsive ... quixotic.... to celebrate.


Going to get lost in my words today.  Always amazes me how I so totally loose all connection with Time when I'm playing with words. 



Peace & Love,

~M




Song:  "Don Quixote", Gordon Lightfoot

Song:  "Shake It Out", By Florence and the Machine  ... (Came across this song today.  Reminds a bit of the dream I had --wrote about- about the moon the other night and my life in general, where the second girl in the tree at the end would be my inner child.)

A poem to go with this song & video ...


“Sweetness of Surrender”


You speak to me finally with two faces, I see:
The hidden nature of your own conflicting duality?
My own subconscious mind finally awakened …
Now conscious to past regrets long since mistaken.
Reconnecting against better judgment’s worldly reason.
Seeking truth for confusion’s swirling thoughts of treason.
Opened and vulnerable, on my knees I bleed once more.
Unworthiness and doubt the seeds of my neglected store.
In childish hopes of finding a long held wanting of release,
My Inner Child rises to grant unanswered chaos final peace.
With her grace, illusion is at last with liberation forcefully shattered …
Together, we two, now step forth to embrace the truly mattered.
The Life we seek comes from up above and infinitely all around.
In surrender there is an indescribable peace that will never be found.

@Copyrighted Poem, August 2012. All Rights Reserved: Isabelle Black Smith.




A friend of mine said she loved this poem, but did not understand the last line.  So here is the explanation:   Yes, the last line can be confusing, because it is our human nature to always "think", "reason" and "seek" ... What I meant here was that indescribable peace cannot be found by us, it finds us when we are finally ready to surrender to it ... like an innocent child : )  ... But maybe you were able to figure this out all on your own?

Another Unnecessary Act of Violence?

Image Source

My thoughts and prayers are with the people of Aurora, Colorado, right now. When I am in writing mode, I don’t focus so much on news.   Heard about this tragic shooting just after lunch today.   Such a senseless tragedy ... I can’t yet even begin to wrap my mind around this act of violence?  So for now, I will just pray for those who have been injured --whether physically and/or emotionally: that they will heal quickly-- for those who have lost their lives and those that they leave behind.   May God Bless one and all ….

~M

6/23/12   Some thoughts upon reflection in the aftermath of this heartfelt tragedy ...This poem is dedicated to the victims of the Aurora Colorado Movie Theater shooting with much Love and many ongoing prayers.

“The Seeds of Hope”

Today, the landscape finds itself

Little more than tattered fields

Of endless, hopeless grey.

For the story has told itself.

There seems little more to say?

So silent prayers attempt to

Fill a wanting void,

In earnest effort to keep

The pain and heartache of

An unfathomable tragedy at bay.

Society’s ultimate betrayal

Unleashed upon the early hours

Of a most unfortunate night.

A moment, now forever frozen

In chasm of unrelenting Time.

Cruelest, senseless crime.

Violent chaos void of all

Reason or meaningful rhyme.

Loss of innocence. Loss of life.

The highest of prices

Was this day paid.

Yet seeds of Hope are

Somehow born

Into the air of tomorrow.

In the wake of heartfelt tragedy

Have these been laid.

And in due time these

Shall blossom a healing,

Heralding an understanding

That will grow to replace

Our current sorrow.

Gathering a newfound

Awareness of thankfulness

For each our blessings in

This life in the  moment

Unfolding right at hand.

Poppied fields of red,

Fields of Hope,

Now stand instead

To paint a memory of

What is today seeming lost

And left unsaid,

But tomorrow, with Love,

Shall never be forgotten.

@Isabelle Black Smith, July 23, 2012.

I have been pondering the resilience of the human spirit today.  It amazes me how we humans can bear what we would have once thought was the unthinkable ... the unfathomable ... and emerge from this bearing metamorphosis stronger, perhaps wiser, but still with an undying belief in some greater good, a reason for our being and a higher purpose for this journey we are on.

Sweet Surrender ...

Getting better ... my eye anyway ... my mood and attitude could still use a bit of adjusting.  Still really short-tempered.  Some residual pain, I guess?  I can see how one could easily become addicted to those pain meds.  They make everything numb: the pain, all worries and cares.  Easy to see how one might choose to pop a pill instead of facing this not always fun reality ... But not to worry, I'm all done with the pain pills and I still have half a bottle left.  Good for me?  I should probably flush the remainder down the toilet, right?  Eliminate future temptations?  No, I've never been a big fan of drugs of any sort.  I even hold out on antibiotics until I am absolutely certain that my body can't fight something on its own first.  No worries:  It's all good : )

Here's a little poem I crafted while under the influence of heavy narcotics, so to speak ... Those drugs seemed to open whole new worlds for me: Pretty far out?!? ... Love this artist, Diana Collier ART, by the way.  Be sure and check out her page: such talent!

Fantasy, By Diana Collier ART

“Sweet Surrender”

Drug induced daze.

Secrets I keep even

From myself ablaze.

In sweet surrender

To inhibitions walls

Crashing down,

I stand innocent,

Naked, in amazed

Confusion …  Void

Of all imposed

Coping delusions.

In this moment,

I am at long last  lost

& simultaneously found.

@Isa Black Smith, May 2012.

Hope to be back to writing on the novel, this Monday or Tuesday, if all goes well.  Trying to bring a new PC on-line and having a few issues.  Hopefully, with two good eyes I will be able to resolve them.

Hope you and yours are having a fabulous Holiday weekend!  May God Bless all who have served our countries so valliantly in our armed forces and their families left behind here in this life.  May we never forget their memories or the sacrifices they have made in order to preserve the hard won freedoms that we enjoy today.  ♥


Peace & Much LOVE,
~M



Song:  "Lucky Man", By The Verve  (youtube.com)



P.S. 5/29/12 Computer is now up and all transferred software is running once again.  I even installed my new digital graphics tablet:  very cool!  This tablet should make photo editing and ART renders a whole lot easier than using a mouse right-handed (when I am supposedly left-handed).  I'm loving this new PC: now to get back to writing? ; )  Think I'll doodle a bit first ... Here's a Harbor seal I saw splashing and playing around in the Puget Sound the other day.

This seal has the life, eh? ...

Still We RISE ...

I was very blessed this Mother’s Day. The sun was shining brilliantly, I didn’t have to cook all day long and I received many wonderful handmade gifts and cards, along with a simple but elegant small silver cross necklace [ I love to wear crosses ... Sometimes I wear as many as three at once : ) ]  But the best gift of all, for me, was probably being able to spend this Mother’s Day with my own Mom. Now that we live on opposite ends of the country, I don’t get to see her as often as I would like. So having her and my father up for a visit this past weekend was a real treat for me. The kids enjoyed spending time with their grandparents –only ones they have—as well.

I hope all of the AMAZING Moms out there had a fabulous day as well … that their children and families made them feel special, truly LOVED and appreciated this dedicated day. Women have a gentle, quiet and often unspoken power flowing through them. We are strong and resilient, yet we can be tender and loving. I think we often underestimate ourselves, as does the world around us? But wherever we may go and whatever circumstances we may find ourselves in, our strength enables us to rise again … rise above … to reach out embrace and fill this world of ours with unconditional LOVE. ♥

I would like to dedicate this photograph of a powerful waterfall --that I took this weekend-- along with this poem by Maya Angelou as a tribute to all the wonderful Mother’s in our world for this Mother’s Day 2012 [Click here to see My Poem for Mother's Day --written last year]. May God continue to Bless, Support, Nurture and Guide our wonderful Mothers throughout the remaining year ahead. May God especially Bless those women who find themselves living in countries where basic rights and freedoms are denied to women.  May He keep them and those that they love safe from harm and fill their hearts and minds with a never-ending Hope for a brighter future.

"Snowqualmie Falls", May 2012

@Copyrighted Photograph.  All Rights Reserved.

Still I Rise

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

Poem By, Maya Angelou

Interestingly enough, the hydro-electric plant at this falls is currently undergoing a reconstruction update.  Thus, the path through the woods down to the river's edge beneath the falls is currently closed.  This forced us to explore neighboring parks in search of some point from which we could access the river proper.  The other access points that we found showed a shallower, slower moving side of this river ... just bordering on gentle, but still moving at a brisk and lively pace.  Seeing these different facets of the same Snowqualmie river --having only experienced the more powerful flow at the foot of the large Snowqualmie Falls-- made me keenly aware that this river seemed to mirror what I have come to know about the nature of woman.  Like woman, this river was strong and powerful where it needed to be, but softer, nourishing and caressing ... almost tender at the lesser junctures.

I couldn't find one song that seemed appropriate for all mother's.  Think the song depends on the mom and your relationship with her.  So go find your song for your MOM. 


Peace, Love & Happy Mother's Day!


~M

"I just got LOST ..."

"I just got lost.  Every river that I tried to cross ..."  A great song, titled: "Lost", By Coldplay. I think that many in today's world can relate to the ideas behind this song. So what is the secret to being happy on our journey through this world?

For me the secret to staying sane and happy --in the moment-- is to approach life from the standpoint that 'ME' is a very fluid, ever-evolving concept.  I've found that LINES --whether of my own 'artistry' or by the acceptance of those drawn by others in the world around me-- only serve to weigh me down at best and drag me down, to slowly drown, in a worst case scenario. 

If 'ME' is fluid, it kind of forces me to live and experience LIFE in the moment, to slow down and savor the here and now ... I don't have to worry about being contained by that nagging voice  reel running through my head that endlessly wonders "why? or how? or when?" (e.g., '...am I going to get here or there and when?').

If 'ME' is ever-evolving, I remain open to being led by the unseen forces --fate, destiny, seredipity, angels? ... or whatever you happen to believe in--  that bring the unexpected, often good and wonderful things, our way ... my eyes and heart are open to seeing others outside of me as intergral parts to the whole and I can accept that I'm not THE CENTER of everything, but I do have a part to play. I can learn and grow from my mistakes instead of letting them define me.

I'm not so sure that "success in the eyes of the world" truly is the key to happiness.  There seem to be a heck of a lot of lines and hoops to jump through if you sign up for that route.  I don't know, you know me:  always coloring outside the lines ... I'm searching for an alternate route ; ) with some 'flying' along the way and I've  never equated 'success' with materialism.  Seems you're setting yourself up for a fall if you buy into that load of ???? .... The less I own: the freer I am in a spiritual sense, I think.  Of course, every once in awhile, the world with its materialistic bias gets angry with me for not playing by its rules and gifts me a black eye ... but I'm tough and it eventually heals. 

You know sitting here right now --with what I've just written above-- I think that I finally truly understand that saying based on the Bible verse "The first shall be last and the last shall be first." [Matthew 20:16]  I guess, if you're so busy pursuing what it takes to be 'first in the eyes of the world', you're probably likely neglecting the spiritual aspects of your life which will advance you in the next.  And as such, when it comes time to punch your spiritual ticket with points in the after-life for the journey to the next, those who were always first on Earth probably won't be moving up much, if any, in the line of seating preferences. Sadly, I don't think they'll be any upgrades available to purchase in this instance.

Hard work and determination are a given in this world.  I don't think that we should just sit back and wait for life to be handed to us.  We are entitled to pursue our own "Life, liberty and happiness", the operative word here being 'pursuit' ... meaning we have an active role in participation. You have to put a roof over your head, food on the table and provide for your families, but you do have choices about the way that you will choose to do this. Therein lies your power to have some control over opportunities for spiritual growth. Happiness is what you make it: It's ALL a matter of perspective.  So maybe if life doesn't seem to be working for you right now: it's time to change your perspective ... even if it's only for a little while.  Think that's why God invented vacations ; ) ... even if 'vacation' is just taking an afternoon off to go for a drive, a walk or picnic in the park ... just do something that you love.


Well whatever you do, remember that:  Life is an adventure ... Make sure you stop --at least once in awhile-- and ENJOY THE RIDE!!!  Happiness is what you make it, right?

And if you feel LOST and empty, maybe it's time to stop focusing on yourself for awhile and focus on those around you.  When I am hurting the most, I find that by reaching out to and listening to others, to share what little I have with them, truly changes my perspective and gives me back my wings ... but maybe that's just me? ... To my way of thinking, if you want to make a difference in the world: try making it one person at a time and just watch the ripples of ♥Peace and Love♥ that you will create.



With the latter in mind, here is a poem I wrote awhile back that pretty much sums up my philosophy on LIFE.  Well, it's what works for me : )

"Descending Heaven's Steps"

@Copyrighted Photograph: All Rights Reserved.

"Take My Hand and Walk With Me Awhile"


I stand here before you, empty of hand.
Alas, I have nothing tangible to offer.
No past that I can rightly cling to as being my own.
No future to hold onto, nor reason for my being,
Save this here ... this now ... this thought
And a simple wish:
That peace of body, mind and spirit be intertwined
In the momentary making of this knowing that is me.

Ever changing, never fixed, I wonder as I wander
Through this journey, we call "life",
Waiting to be woven into the transitory purpose at hand.
Clear of mind, free of spirit, pure of heart,
I strive only to see the beauty that abounds.
I am an empty vessel waiting to be filled.
Take my hand and walk with me awhile ...



@Copyrighted Poem, 2010. All Rights Reserved: Isabelle Black Smith.





P.S.  It took me nearly a year to figure out why this statue only has one hand.  That's when this poem fell into place.  The statue only has one hand, because I give the other to you ... whoever you may be as I cross your path, in the moment unfolding at hand.

The Marriage of Insanity ...

Well, I'm working my way back to the Light ... Actually, my oldest just finished reading "Dr. Jeckyll" with her AP English class.  So my discussions with my daughter on the "nature of duality" kind of spun off into this reflective write, I guess.  That's my story and I'm sticking to it ; )

(I'm still searching for a better image accompaniment for this poem, I think.  I might even try to do my own photo ART render?  We shall see ... In the meantime, do check out this talented artist on Deviant Art.)


Q: After viewing this image for some time, it occurred to me that perhaps the designation of 'sanity' and 'insanity' in this image might not be so straightforward.  What do you think?  Which image represents 'sanity' to you?  What about 'insanity'?

A:  Well, after much reflection ... I think that the image on the left would have to be 'insanity' to me, because her eyes are closed. She's clearly somewhere outside this 'here and now' and the smile on her face says to me that she's happy ... blissfully ignorant, perhaps, but happy nonetheless.  The image on the right --'sanity' to me-- appears to be looking on 'insanity' with a coherent, purposeful, almost envious gaze. 

"Duality", By Cocoaspen on Deviant Art

@All Rights of Original Artist Reserved.

“The Marriage of Insanity”

What is sanity,

But a thinly woven thread

Skillfully threaded

Through the needle

Of Mind’s Eye.

Taughtly pulled

And sewn through

The trappings of

Worldly life.

Endless vulnerability

To infliction by

Disordered Strife.

Would were I

All the better off

Without it,

This ‘sanity’ …

Alas to Sanity

I find myself, in

Antithesis,

Inextricably wed.

@Copyrighted & Published Poem 2012.  All Rights Reserved: Isabelle Black Smith.

.... And I just noticed something (per my post the other day, "Blue Destiny"), this woman happens to be the color of Destiny for me: Blue. Wonder what that means (why I chose this image)? Maybe nothing?

Here's a thought for you:  Perhaps the nature of duality in its citizenry is what allows ordered societies to prosper, thrive(?) and survive?

Nature of the Kiss ...

In recent days, I have asked: "What's in a name?" And "What's in a voice?" Well, how about: "What's in a kiss?" ... Isn't the latter the next step in a logical progression, maybe? ... Okay, just go with it ; )

I remember viewing this iconic photo for the first time within the pages of a big 12" x 18" Time Life Book of "World's Most Memorable Images" (or something like that? I can't quite remember the exact title).  I was about eight years old at the time, visiting with my Great Aunt and Uncle at their summer lake house, in Wisconsin.  My Uncle was a dentist and he and his wife loved lots of cool things: among them books and travel.  Visiting them, for me, was the gateway to a whole new world of adventures. The obvious adventure of the fabulous outdoors (swimming, canoeing, chasing frogs, fish and snakes, bonfires, hikes in the woods looking for deer ... wondering if you'd encounter a bear) aside, My Aunt and Uncle also had a truly remarkable collection of books. They had your typical reading books, but they also owned many "picture books" filled with page after page of fabulous photographs and famous paintings. Their collection of books, travel trinkets, travel photos and the most amazing handheld picture viewer of 'famous places around the world' often transported me to far away, strange and foreign lands.

This classic photo of a returning sailor from war --a hero-- locked in the passionate embrace of kiss with his "sweetheart" was forever etched in my mind that hot summer evening, so long ago, the day of my first viewing. I remember sighing and thinking, silently, to myself at that moment:  "This must be what Love is."  Little did I realize at the time that the two people in the photo were complete strangers. You see, it seems an enthusiastic sailor, elated to finally be safely back home from the war, just grabbed the first gal he spotted walking down the street and planted a big, wet kiss on her (interesting photo facts, scroll down beyond #1 to +1). Kind of romantic, in a "Gone With the Wind" sort of way, right? Well, my thoughts on what Love is and isn't have evolved substantially since my first viewing of this iconic photo, but let's keep the focus on the subject of this photo and the discussion at hand: The Kiss. 

Awhile back, some writing friends challenged me to write three very different writes on the subject of "a kiss." I am happy to report, that after much initial struggle, I was able to rise to the challenge. Pondering this subject matter for my writes naturally conjured up this iconic image of "A Kiss" in my mind.  So I went on-line and found a copy of this photo and used it as my inspiration for this write. The evolution of my thoughts on the subject of "the kiss" resulted in the poem at the end of this post. This poem is the first of the three writes. It is a more playful take on "what's in a kiss." This poem was kind of the ice-breaker that paved the way for the other two more passionate and personal writes. Not sure that I will share the latter two here with you … but for now, here follows my playful write on "what's in a kiss."

I suppose that the obvious closing question would be: "Do you remember your first kiss?" … But, personally, I think that first kisses are highly over-anticipated and overrated. To my way of thinking subsequent kisses are often more memorable, not to mention enjoyable, but perhaps that is just me. With three daughters rapidly approaching the potential age for first kisses, I am confident that I shall soon have some firsthand, unbiased --*****-- input on the subject. Although, it may still be awhile before I get this input as my younger two daughters still shout "Ewwwhhhh!!?!!" when they see two people kiss in the movies or on TV -- sigh of relief from me ; ) Kids grow up so quickly, anyway nowadays, don't they? I'm all for letting them enjoy being young, innocent and free for as long as they can be.

Image Source

@Copyrighted Image: Allied Eisen. Getty.

"Nature of the Kiss"

I can be many things:  Innocent, sweet,

Subtle and simultaneously alluring.

How about intense and passionate ...

Emotions deep within you stirring?

I can be entirely spontaneous

Or  conversely premeditated.

More often than not, though,

I'm just a random mix

Betwixt the latter calibrated.

But perhaps I am at my best

When I'm anticipated?

From gestures of grandeur,

Spanning the gamut to insipidity:

I am bestowed in a wonder of ways

And for a number of worthy reasons,

At times, even chancing purely

Upon the gentle breeze of serendipity.

I garner labels ranging from Notoriety

To hands-down outright Impropriety.

Sometimes I am bestowed in

Dubiety, Spontaneity and/or Anxiety ...

And even, from time to time,

God forbid, in Inebriety.

I can be dry, wet, cold, hot or steamy,

But don't you just love it when I'm dreamy?

In lust, friendship, kinship, hope or greeting: 

There are endless reasons for lips meeting.

Lips imparting treasured bliss, 

In form of most endearing kiss.

Placed upon forehead, neck, cheek or hand  ...

But when lips meet lips, man oh man ain't it grand?

@Copyrighted & Published Poem, 2011.  All Rights Reserved:  Isabelle Black Smith.

Song: "A Kiss to Build a Dream On", By Louis Armstrong  

Louis Armstrong, old 'Satchmo', another unique and fabulous voice : )




3/27/2012 Good news. Seems revisiting some of my old writes helped to break the rust free. I've found my words and I am writing again. It feels good to be back. With any luck, I will be able to ride this wave through to the completion of novel of #2.  Peace & Love  ~M

These Feet ...

A poem that evolved from yesterday's ponderings.   This is a work in progress, as am I ...

Image Source

"These Feet"

1    Walk, skip, run ...

2    And when I'm lucky, dance with these feet  the Creator,

3    In His infinite wisdom unto me so gifted.

4    I will walk through this journey, my so-called life,

5    Joyful arms out-lifted on a glorious adventure unscripted. 

6    Free-will  our inheritance enlisted,

7    These feet carry a warrior with a gentle heart,

8    Willfully serving His higher purpose.

9     His voice ever near and endlessly heeded,

10   I am an empty vessel waiting  to be filled ...

11   A burning spirit, sealed in fire, watching, waiting,

12   Listening, ready to be used as I am needed.

13   Renouncing Fear , these feet journey ever forward

14   Knowing full well moments there shall call

15   Where these feet shall scarcely find the will to crawl.

16   To my knees then will I swiftly fall, but even then

17   Fear will NOT rule:  my will remains immune to worldly strife.

18   Unyielding Faith in the Creator breathes me Life.

19   My spirit calls unto Him to fill up the

20   Empty wanting that in this darkness is me ...

21   In my Valley of Darkness safe from harm

22   The Creator will me keep.  With His Infinite Love

23   And Merciful Grace, He renews a weary me.

24   Therefore, I shall not with worldly tears weep. 

25   Fortifying my strength, opening eyes, mind, heart and soul:

26   He fills me up and makes me once again whole.

27   Thus renewed, these free-willed feet

28   Choose to resume His Divine Bidding.

29   Joyful steps these feet trace in the sands of a so-called life,

30   Mindfully infused with Heaven's Eternal Pace:

31   The Cosmic Beat set with Supreme Perfection

32   Unto Nature's Rhythmic Feet  ...

33   With Nature, I strive to be One.

34   So move these feet, ever forward in motion,

35   A glorious notion in aid to simple hands;

36   A paired will awaits:  there to do as He insights.

@Copyrighted Poem, 2012.  All Rights Reserved:  Isabelle Black Smith.

“It is the marriage of the soul with Nature that makes the intellect fruitful, and gives birth to imagination.” ~Henry David Thoreau

Purple Clouds Brood with Ominous Portent ...

@Copyrighted Image, 2012.  All Rights Reserved: Isabelle Black Smith.

"Purple Clouds" 


An evil wind howls relentlessly
In the waning hours of a year
Soon to be laid to rest,
Whilst swirls of purple clouds
Brood with ominous foreboding
In vehement protest 
To yet another year's closing.
A speck of insignificant dust,
I wander thus below ...
A lone, winter clad, cold
And weary figure
In silent observation.
Foretelling footsteps,
Tossed wildly about
By the chill of a merciless wind.
My untamed imagination
Wonders: What pray do these portents,
Thus our way, in the new year send?



 @Copyrighted Poem, 2011. All Rights Reserved: Isabelle Black Smith.





Very cool clouds there were here this afternoon/evening.  Sadly, I did not have any camera with me on my walk though, so I borrowed an image that came close (though the clouds here were a bit more brooding in nature).  I wish I had had my camera (did not even have a cell phone) with me on my walk, but the fierce wind made it hard to breath and think ... let alone take photos, I suppose.  Perhaps, I was just meant to observe and listen maybe?

Interestingly enough ... I decided to google "Purple Cloud" once I returned home and my fingers had thawed ... "Cloud" singular, because there was one lone purple cloud that seemed to be following me ... and low and behold look what I found:  "Purple Cloud", a fictional write  ... story, book, first published in 1901 and republished by the author again in 1920.  The work is a science fiction write, with a most intriguing story line.  This may just be my next read?



P.S. 1/8/2012 Early morning hours ... It occurs to me upon reflecting this night that the last line of this poem should read "our" and not "my" as originally written.




1/16/2012 ... It snowed here this weekend.  Got some great photos of clouds with barren tree branches laden in snow.  This particular image seemed to lend itself to purple.  So I have decided to update the photo here with one of my own.  This photo goes much better with the imagery of  "A lone winter clad, cold and weary figure."

Here is the original photo that I had posted, borrowed from another blogger: "Purple-Dreamy."  I will post it here to help promote a fellow photographer : )  It is a great photo: fabulous clouds ... fabulous PURPLE!

Image Soure: http://purpledreamy.blogspot.com/2011/05/purple-clouds.html