Tentative-
looking within your eyes.
Cautious-
will you choose to know?
Hopeful-
life is a gift best shared.
Dreaming-
the beauty of friendship rare!
Author – Bill Tidsbury
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Beauty
Bushwhacking
Bushwhacking – A definition( http://www.freedictionary) – “To force one’s way through a forested or overgrown area where no path exists:” “Often on the verge of starvation, they bushwhacked through muskeg, forded ice-cold streams and rivers … determined to conquer a daunting land deemed impassable”“(Brenda Koller)
There is always a well travelled trail – a highway.
It goes somewhere “important”, popular or theoretically crucial.
If I see myself only through other’s eyes, I am driven to “assume” that areas with no trails are only waste places or impossibly inaccessible. We label them ”Here there be monsters” on the map of life!
Life is after all “only about” what our “culture” and our friends have chosen to praise and admire.
Or – is it?
If life is a process, and if my journey has anything at all to do with my own uniqueness, then, my path must at times appear like buswhacking!
This implies solitude, struggle, many unknowns and periods of being lost!
These aspects of life are not glamourized by many. In fact, they can be downright scary!
Yet, the vast majority of my life’s encounters with exceptional beauty, radical moments of self discovery and incredulous joy, have been off the beaten path.
The courage to step off the “chosen” path will always open the door to wonder, curiosity and discovery, if, I am not running in panicked flight ( Fear is a monster!).
When I choose this deviation from the comfortable, I meet my own uniqueness because my Creator has been waiting to meet me there!
Drink deep of the wine of being exceptional – step off the highway!
Author – Bill Tidsbury
Threads of beauty
In the tumult of the hectic, in the rawness of running cold, it can seem turmoil’s ceaseless pounding robs away life’s treasured gold.
I can sense the thread of beauty, flowing through the crashing waves; in these glimpses of perfection, I can grasp – I’m not a slave.
When alone the turmoil thickens, then I feel the need to roam. When I feel your hand enfold me, it is then I find my home.
Learning quiet, as I’m racing, it’s never easy, always rough. Yet, through gentleness in wisdom, I find a peace that is enough.
I am strong, yet also needy. I am made to rest in you. I can reach up to the mountains when I’m energized anew.
Life can so so very fleeting. It’s the joys that make it fly. Yet these moments, when remembered, call me deep into your eyes.
How I see you and I see me, it all flows in harmony. When I settle into stillness, I’m transformed by mystery.
Author – Bill Tidsbury
The message
I hint , I speak,
yet still the space between
seems destined to remain.
The fog, the smog
damps beauty’s winsome voice.
You look, you wink,
I really still don’t get it-
as silence chokes my heart.
Connect, reject,
what difference does it make?
I just don’t get the message!
Your eyes, my heart,
they miss each other’s gestures.
I sigh, I hurt,
still puzzled by the distance.
This trust – it’s hanging by a thread!
To live, to be,
It’s so much more than breathing.
I yearn to just be understood.
I hope, I dream,
to sense the quickening lightening.
I laugh, I sing,
when in transparent moments,
I meet you and I’m bare.
Author – Bill Tidsbury
Broken dreams
Clashing turmoil – fleeing I seek to hide.
Nothing is certain. The echoes bounce and cry.
Mental confusion grows madly day by day.
Soundless arguments aiding my disarray.
In the roaring of mental disconnect,
There’s something deep that begins to lift and rise.
This shift straightens broken loops to clarity
and kisses with a friend’s quiet certainty.
Shards of crystal rain upon the fields,
as lies and fears fall scatter like the snow.
Sun’s rays melt the shapeless shards to liquid grace,
creating life for hope’s new planted shrubs.
Glowing beauty and fruitful bounty forms
as life takes hold of things once lost and gone.
Destiny flowers – vermillion in a sea of green-
a harvest promised, grown from broken dreams.
Author – Bill Tidsbury
Solutions
Chaos –
rushing currents,
clashing in violence
as beauty weeps – shunned.
Purpose is lost so quickly!
Swirling motion dampens dream’s creative hope.
Choking pollution blinds the mind to vision’s life.
Expectancy arises, aroused by laughter’s joy.
Songs spark curiosity’s delightful vibe.
Beauty dries her tears
as birth quickens
legacy’s voice.
Synchronicity!
Author – Bill Tidsbury
Journey’s curves
To yield, to seek, to laugh, to love;
The journey flows between the hills.
The curves ahead obscure the view,
of what will flow from each day’s tread.
I wander through this novel place.
It’s full of beauty, of fragrance full,
with moments shifting from grey to blue.
Hearts are seen as caresses grace
the moments we share unseen.
Then, hope gives way to loss.
Darkness floods the gloom
yet, brightened by the rising moon.
Glorious day soon paints things bright.
Pastel glory shines upon the hills.
Life renewed –
time again to choose-
my dream!
Author – Bill Tidsbury
