Seasoned wood in canvas tent, Thoughts that rise to smoky vent; Ancient tipi’s ancient ways Reflecting light of ancient days.
Seasoned wood in canvas tent,
Thoughts that rise to smoky vent;
Ancient tipi’s ancient ways
Reflecting light of ancient days.
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Lovely, redolent, evocative–I’m imagining poems being written inside. I might not come out…
We all need a cocoon – er, tent, once in a while – as long as we eventually crawl out and don’t live there, it’s okay to go for a visit! 🙂
I don’t know–I rearranged the living room today (last week was the bedroom), and realized it is no longer set up to welcome guests. Just a cocoon for me to hunker down for fall/winter, and write like a madwoman. I’m calling it “acceptance”–has a more positive ring than isolation; and who knows, maybe I’ll get that novel finished yet (or the epic poem version of it).
An epic poem of your cocooning process would make a GREAT Hollywood blockbuster!
Oh NO, not another creative project! I’ll jot a note…!
This, and you being so close to nature allures me to think that you might have been an amerindian in a previous life 🙂
🙂 German heritage, actually – so maybe Europeans can be close to nature, after all! 🙂 Where our traits come from is a fascinating study, isn’t it?
It sure is, Melody 🙂
What an interesting shot! 🙂
Meanwhile, Melody Muses... 
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