Transcending

Conscious stream of thought

Unconscious stream of thought

Conscious stream of words

Unconscious stream of words

For a Sunday, on a planet

Orbiting a star

Where everything means something

And everything means nothing

 

Here we go

Transcend.

Too many words

Too many thoughts

Too much of everything

 

Transcend.

Understanding the Nihlist

The stoic, the sceptic

And yet this is a spiritual

Awakening

When everything explodes

All at once

Into nothingness

like the Big bang

And then it’s all gone

like the universe, maybe

~Jenny Miller

 

 

I guess what we mourn over in midlife is not the past people and places of our youth, but the loss of our naïve hearts and minds. ~Jenny Miller

We shrug off the weary garment

and fly home to God

Where first, as we fly through

the endless expanse of the stars

and space,

through an endless universe, universes,

past planets, such beautiful shining

brightness against the dark --

On our way we are told perhaps

"Guess what - want to know the secret?"

"Yes" we answer.

- by Jenny Miller

#1 Autumn: 2020 ~ Ornamental Horticulture ~Koelreuteria bipinnata

 

There is a certain kind of tree

called a Chinese Lantern

because it has foliage in the fall

that looks like colorful Chinese

lanterns

and they sway softly

in the breeze.

-by Jenny Miller

Bayberry Candles

The scent of Bayberry candles

will forever bring me back to a time

of deciduous woods,

a colonial white house,

a crisp and colorful fall

and the burnt orange,

warm simplicity 

of the seventies.

-by Jenny Miller

On the Road Home

How can I be

authenticated

as I am

as I am

as you are

as you are

How can I be

authenticated

in all things

to all people

I encounter

on the road home.

-by Jenny Miller

written 7/15/2020

COVE

All that was known is gone.
As you were sleeping,
Life went on.

The pumpkins
the frost
the flowers
all lost.

All is in a daze
As you lose track
of days.

It seems everything
Now measured
All in the past.
How long will this last?

Will there still be seasons?
Will there still be holidays,
birthdays, remembrances,
Celebrations?

It feels all hope is lost
And hands are stuck,
on clocks.

by Jenny Miller
4/29/2020