Suzy Musing

Photographer  ..  Writer  ..  Spoken Word Artist

[suzyhazelwood]

i recall the days when your world became the slow changing of sky through an insufficient window

a prisoner caught in comforts and affliction visitors with frowning brows and shaky prayer like hands wishing too hard for your rightful freedom then one day it came swift and sharp leaving too many silent rooms and questions hanging forever wondering if you got to touch the clouds

Image (Suzy Hazelwood)

[thoughtkick]

“I spent my childhood learning how to fear, and now I spend my adulthood learning how not to.”

— Gemma Troy

[the-silent-troubadour]

the news

a tabloid

of

mankind’s insanity

[the-silent-troubadour]

we’re sorta like springs beautiful flowers

not so beautiful in our fading

ah but the flowers will have another year another season

while we bloom but once

[walerihq]

[suzyhazelwood]

😅🙌❤️

[fidjiefidjie]

🍊🥤 Une orangeade ? 🐈‍⬛

🎶 La vie en rose

Source: Beautiful nature

[the-silent-troubadour]

the human

contact

with no other species is it so important

that heart beat in whisper with another

a moment when two souls entwine

arms wrapped like vines around the other

so that nothing could impart

the human contact

for awhile

a place were souls collide

[amdd1990]

Artist: Ivan Aivazovsky.

[definegodliness]

Visit Original Link

With a cameo by Storm Louis at the end.

Text under cut:

Vision

A new leaf unfurls, shimmering Pristine and lime green, Steadfast, and doubtless in the Mathematical perfection of nature's Origami.

Pretty little thing.

All too easily overlooked In the short lived process Of its existence, as such.

Soon, this leaf, too, will turn Dark and dull, Yet sturdy and fully functional; Anonymous among its kin, so, swallowed By the entirety that is survival.

Yet now, still,

It is a vision of purity.

I dwell on this — my incessant Yearning purity; grounds keeper home In the graveyard Of my soul, Where candlelight burns In the darkest nights So that the eulogies, collected, May remain legible.

The tomes in here contain Dust-ridden truths, I rarely revisit, But when the wind decides To leaf through their pages I cannot help but glance a bit:

Hope —

Hope is a symbiont of the dead, It grows even on ossified bones And as such it needs not my attention To remain.

I ponder this.

Were I more reckless, I would add:

"What more, virulent And constricting hope becomes When given too much time under sun; How its roots then thirst and beg; How its tendrils latch at throats and Seek to squeeze out Just one tear To nurture the only fruits it may bear; Despair And dejection."

Please do not mistake the winter hardiness Of my resignation For the rot of cynicism.

Hope, symbiont of the dead, Merely stems from the past; It is the residual waste Of a moment, captured and recognized As a timeless truth For the length of its Experience.

However, such truths rarely live on for long In us, mortal beings.

They are malformed By our defining, and analyzing When we cease to live within them, and start Remembering.

Timeless truths are better left buried.

This is why I do not pick up the pen To ruin the tome with my temporary Imaginations.

One does not disturb the soil where Once stood a rose To once more see Its petals.

One can only respectfully maintain the earth Wherein it lays buried.

A leaf unfurls, Pristine and lime green; I dare not touch it due to its fragility.

What a pretty little thing.

This is what love Means to Me.

--- 14-2-2023, M.A. Tempels ©

[sherrylephotography]

Delicate petals barely pink

Contrast deep dark bark

Ooh sweet spicy fragrance

Achoo achoo ... spring

Bless you

My photography @sherrylephotography

2/24

[gropingphotography]

© RC 2022

[seasoflife]

Juan Brufal

seasoflife

[periodedits]

I don’t care what I see outside. My vision is within!  Here is where the birds sing! Here is where the sky is blue!

A ROOM WITH A VIEW (1985) dir. James Ivory

[materterrae]

[aubriestar]

is it spring yet?

cold has seeped

from dank nights rising

into daytime grey

clouds marching into february

slowing the takeover of red

camellias and hibiscus cascading

into lace edged hearts

i long for robins’ songs

wishing for those ruby slippers

to click together and find

you on the garden swing

saving a spot for me

a warm sun awakening wildflowers

with a sigh of early spring

©️-Aubrie-2024

[suzyhazelwood]

sometimes you need to escape cancel tragedy and woe return from where you came realign the balance reach out and feel the tangible and remember who you are

suzyhazelwood

[babyfoxcollectionthings]