The GoldenRod

“The goldenrod is yellow, The corn is turning brown, The trees in apple orchards With fruit are bending down”

Corn_Field_Goldonrod_by JoanParkerSutton

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“The goldenrod is yellow, The corn is turning brown, The trees in apple orchards With fruit are bending down”

I memorized this poem back in High School.

September by Helen Hunt Jackson

The golden-rod is yellow;
The corn is turning brown;
The trees in apple orchards
With fruit are bending down.
The gentian’s bluest fringes
Are curling in the sun;
In dusty pods the milkweed
Its hidden silk has spun.
The sedges flaunt their harvest,
In every meadow nook;
And asters by the brook-side
Make asters in the brook.
From dewy lanes at morning
the grapes’ sweet odors rise;
At noon the roads all flutter
With yellow butterflies.
By all these lovely tokens
September days are here,
With summer’s best of weather,
And autumn’s best of cheer.
But none of all this beauty
Which floods the earth and air
Is unto me the secret
Which makes September fair.
‘T is a thing which I remember;
To name it thrills me yet:
One day of one September
I never can forget.

photography by Joan Parker Sutton

Shadows of My Mind

Body and Soul
My Secrets
My Shadows
My Mind
The perception you have created
Of me in your mind
Like a caterpillar’s metamorphosis
Nothing would remain the same
Between us
Better to be mysterious
Ask me no questions
Endure no lies
Let me bathe in the attentiveness
This moment
In the Maze of Time

Cynthia J.Martz Feb 12 2017

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Photo by Cynthia

Shadows_In_Palms

Into The Mist

 

 

Seize The Day
Some say
Live for the moment
With nary thoughts of yesterday or tomorrow’s

Religious dogma teaches when you die you either ascend to the heavenly realms or you burn for ever in fiery torment.

Your fate depends upon how you lived your life on this earthly plain.

Most religions teach that after death we are as if we were sleeping, having neither thoughts or the privilege of any of our senses.

“James 4:14
Yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes.”

They give us the hope (an illusion ?) of being awakened through resurrection. Than we are judged by the ONE and all powerful creator of Heaven and Earth.

We are supposedly in his book of Good things and Bad things. This has throughout history put fear in the hearts of those that follow these teachings.

I was taught if you were not among the so called anointed class of 144,000 you had choices.

You either could live forever on a paradise earth or you indeed would invariably just cease to exist.

Therefore I ask ?

In lay terms IF we cease to exist, what is the difference ?

Our senses have been taken from us.

We rest eternally.

We feel nothing because we are non-existent.

(SIGHT) We see no more extraordinary sunrises or sunsets

(SMELL) We no longer linger on the essence of the rose

(HEAR) We no longer perceive the roar of life

(TASTE) We do not salivate over food that sustains us and gives us our strength

(TOUCH) We do not feel the pain of the thorn nor the experience the acquisitiveness of the petal.

The faculties of sight, smell, hearing, taste, and touch have ceased

I live my life in the moment and I cherish my loved ones with all my heart

I do not fear dying.

I have lived many lifetimes.

I believe we are created by a higher power.

We strive too Live, learn and pass that wisdom before we cease.

Our knowledgeable memories go with us.

Our stories evaporate into the mist.

© Cynthia m ART z 2016

Tin Roof

Tin Roof 4 16 02

This is the house I became a teenager in. I think I was around six when my grandparents said we could live in it. It had four rooms. No indoor plumbing. Water was drawn daily from a cool spring well.

I loved it when it rained. The tin roof seemed to be magical with the rain falling on it.

I designed this today.

Rain on Tin Roof

and a few from

Poetry From my WordPress