Wednesday, 3 April 2013

today is always another day

It has been a frustrating month writing wise, my morning tweets are all that I have managed to muster alongside the creative demands of work.

However, this weekend I'm back. I will post a new blog updating my betwixt and between build project on Rathlin on Sunday, and the new week will signal the beginning of a new 35k challenge....

Anyone fancy joining me?

So, I'm back! In the meantime, here's what's been happening early morning outside my bedroom window. A single moment, a solitary place in time can be just wonderful, you just have to be sure to see it as it is.

Monday: day breaks through like a hymn of hope, its vibrant notes sweeping the night to tomorrow, its colour rich only in the imagination.

Tuesday: the looking glass mists with the last breath of winter, the house leans to the east, searching for the hidden buds of spring.

Wednesday: soft blue kisses rooftops, tumbling gently like the virgin's protective cloak, robes encompassing, clouds gathering winter tears.

Thursday: a yellow hue teases a blue canvas, a playful promise. A curious night fox strides nonchalantly by, seizing the day as his own

Friday: a magpie dances on the edge of morning, lips glistening with promise of adventure, a dizzy gait stretching into a flurry of winter.

Saturday: below a moon less sky the many faces of yesterday peer out from under a blanket of winter, their songs stirring the dancing trees.

Sunday: a wagging robin sweeps the edge of life with richness, its bold red pushing apart the closing jaws of a grey sky & hidden earth.

Monday: a soft breeze strides the rooftops, its song mirrored by a passing crow, expansive waxy wings a looking glass beyond a vast blue sky

Tuesday: the chattering tree bends into bright light, arching roots stretching beyond the cold sky, greedily supping the hint of hidden sun.

Wednesday: wide awake, the orange glow of the darkest hour maps the night's footprints, snugly, morning sleeps under a blanket of winter.

Thursday: a white sky swallows earth, expansive edges merging, tumbling into the jaws of indifference. A passing seagull searches for today.

Friday: frothy waves caress the snowy shore with curiosity, under the shadow of morning the lighthouse closes its eyes to a union of soul

Saturday: morning nudges the house & it sways into life, its gentle stirring waking nesting sparrows, foggy eyes peering from sleepy wings

Easter Sunday: an amber sky hugs a flock of seagulls, chatting in retort their morning song lingers long after silent wings flee the scene.

Monday: a marble sky hangs low, its fractured morning mirrored on pavements, their emptiness mapping the shades of grey with indifference.

Tuesday: the moon peers from the night & watches the morning unfold, a silver hue pressed against clear blue, a soft pink giving chase.

Wednesday: the moon waltzes from the fading night & tiptoes east, the morning waves hello, stretching long arms into its welcoming face.

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