Return

After having been away for a long time, I decided it's time again to come back. You know how you can have times in your life you don't feel like talking? or sharing? Or saying much at all. I've been working the grind, as they say, for quite a while. Currently I'm working but working where I'd like to be makes the difference. I had forgotten I could write. Apparently my grammar can be imperfect, but I'm not going to lose sleep over it. 

I'm still a goat herder, and I prefer to stay one for ever more. Goats never go out of fashion. They rule. #highooves

Have a fun day too, get some sun if you have access to the download.

for the love of goat

The pace of life moves along quickly. Before you know it things have happened. If nothing has happened then it's time to revisit things. Why not have some fun? Things are serious enough as it is. What are you up to right now?

In my case: I have been working on a new project because I fell over it. It jumped out at me while I was working on a crazy lampshade with knitted stuff for an open day of my local craft group. I have been drawing on crockery ever since the 'aha' befell me. It's plates, tea cups, coffee mugs, espresso cups and even a teapot that I have doodled with my goaties. In case you missed it: I'm a goat herder.

So after the goatie mayhem cranked up I sold all my ware on the open day! There were orders put in and I found myself drawing more crazy goaties. Knitting goaties, skipping rope goats, hugging goats, guitar playing goats; I decided the next step was a website and going to a market. The website will go live in the next few days.

So much to my surprise I will be having a stand at the next Milton Market which is Saturday the 7th of December. It's bound to be fun and busy! Come and see us and share a cup of tea.

Story telling

Midway through the story

we pause.

Try and rewind but no.

The story stops for certain.

What continuation there is

is simply what passes as time.

Segments. Phrases.

Blobs of words. Appear. Die. Live.

It's hard to say nowadays.

Letting words fall where they may.

Silence is my better friend.

All the shouting and screaming that went on

might as well have been in vain as the thoughts that raced before them.

Choosing the non-word seems sensible. Not even the visual,

not the sleep, not the sound. What remains, is. But what is it?

What does silence feel like?

What does it actually say?

easter matter

Less and less

is there a need for rituals

the refinement of existing in this place

is enough to move and be in joy.

The firmer the desire for anchoring

oneself to a requirement,

the more solely it serves the purpose of ego and false safety.

Quietude is the only thing that really sustains.

Listen to the space that envelops.

The stardust that whispers sweet nothings.

No easter egg can hold the richness

and the vastness of the Being discovered.

The easter bunny disappeared in the distance.

The cross that was borne is long cast.

A story unwritten only matters

as it newly takes shape in the soul right now.

today is the day

I consider every day to be the most important.

When cuddling my cat I hear her musings of content.

She only cares to be loved, to be warm, to be fed.

Simplicity and serenity lie in the arms of friendship. 

Being happy with what is

and rejoicing the love that is with us, today.

Some blessings are eternal, some are fleeting.

Whether we can find a friend or not: remember to purr every day.

the silence

words being said

that might as well have been unspoken

hanging

in the air, waiting and halted

then

erased by being obsolete

the story matters

more then the grammar.

I have chosen to wait

it can be more useful

to not say anything

but let the thought sit quietly

then softly

there's a breath of word released

a sound of being expressed

the tender unfolding of speech.

the sentences become

flowing in song

fluffy as goat hair

loving in caress once more.

the turkeys

In the light

the male turkeys dance

they prance and jest, they fluff and huff loudly

until one has had enough and turns round, dashing off

to some food that looks interesting

or to monitor a chook that is scurrying for worms

the lady turkeys

are busy too, two are nesting,

one other is young and restless

and one is recovering from a ferret wound

yet all reside in the green, looking happy

being together

in the here and now

where food is abundant and company plentiful

peace reigns

and the male turkeys gobble

looking up at the sun

shaking their feathers

poking up their fluffy bums to the sky

memo

Did you feel it?

That I love you.

Now and always.

My heart is your heart.

Our hearts are connected to the

Global Heart that is beating.

Hurting. Crying. Celebrating. Growing. Expanding.

A heart can do many things.

It beats evermore. It remembers.
We are all humans and are more the same then we are different.

The heart is strong

The heart is wise.

It will tell tales from truth

It will follow it's own strength

of you.

Of me.

Of all hearts. In time to come.

the two brothers

the two brothers walked

the two brothers talked.

there was silence.

worry spread over their faces.

one spoke the other listened.

more silence.

they changed positions so the other spoke

and the first one listened.

heads put together.

the sharing of nods and mood.

assessment of the situation

that was very grave indeed.

a conclusion was reached.

a proposal forged.

the moods lightened.

smiles came out as lunch was served.

blessed be

(for Margreet)

departure time

is timeless, although the death is timely

and soulprints are left on this earth

stored as memories below

walking her story on her ground

it had reached the final paragraph

and today, the epitaph.

I remember.

I recall the days I stayed

at your farmhouse for a number of days

and we spoke most..

in silence. The days I see as sunny.

You came to visit me today

and you looked well and are so happy.

Now that you are reunited with your love

and can walk your dog in peace once more.

And we weep not for those

who leave their bodies and continue

on the greatest marvel of a path

that stretches out in all directions. All at once.

Blessed be, lady of the woods.

I may see you again, another time.