Posts Tagged ‘struggle

04
Feb
16

Time down the drain…

Dirty Sink-Stain-SwittersB

We waste so much of our lives tethered to this task, that struggle, those priorities…then we seek to slow down to salvage, to regain health, mental stability, time…  I don’t have an answer, beyond instincts, to survive after much lost time. Explaining this to our children and grandchildren is the remaining task.

43 days on hold

on phone

12
Apr
15

tuft of grass…

holding to the cliff

tenacity, hopeful, courage

you never give up

grass-rock ledge-cliff-SwittersB-desert-Bucky

02
Apr
15

GMB Akash: powerful, compelling

GMB AKASH

“Today, I count myself blessed, having become a photographer. To be able to articulate the experiences of the voiceless, to bring their identity to the forefront, gives meaning and purpose to my own life ” – Gmb Akash

women-at-work-2

14
Mar
15

onward…

keep climbing onward

the ridge top offers a view

rest in the sunshine

rock wall--little cactus-life-desert-SwittersB

24
Jan
15

To endure: The winds rule….

“The worse the passage the more welcome the port. ”

Thomas Fuller, England, 1608-1661

wind shear-Mt. San Jacinto-tree-desert-California-SwittersB

24
Jul
13

Poetry of What Was……………..

Barn Window SB

Abandoned Farmhouse

BY Ted Kooser

He was a big man, says the size of his shoes
on a pile of broken dishes by the house;
a tall man too, says the length of the bed
in an upstairs room; and a good, God-fearing man,
says the Bible with a broken back
on the floor below the window, dusty with sun;
but not a man for farming, say the fields
cluttered with boulders and the leaky barn.
A woman lived with him, says the bedroom wall
papered with lilacs and the kitchen shelves
covered with oilcloth, and they had a child,
says the sandbox made from a tractor tire.
Money was scarce, say the jars of plum preserves
and canned tomatoes sealed in the cellar hole.
And the winters cold, say the rags in the window frames.
It was lonely here, says the narrow country road.
Something went wrong, says the empty house
in the weed-choked yard. Stones in the fields
say he was not a farmer; the still-sealed jars
in the cellar say she left in a nervous haste.
And the child? Its toys are strewn in the yard
like branches after a storm–a rubber cow,
a rusty tractor with a broken plow,
a doll in overalls. Something went wrong, they say.
01
Aug
12

Life: In The Crucible……………….

“The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.” Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

In one of those quiet rooms in a hospital; down the hallway from some harsh reality. SwittersB




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