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25.01.2022 : . #art#writing#chalk#book#bookcover#poetry

22.01.2022 No Tree it is said can grow to Heaven unless its roots reach down to... Hell -Carl Jung #carljung#psychology#philosophy#quote#motivation#writing#art#caligraphy#poetry See more

20.01.2022 . ?? #carljung#hinduism#amateur#spiritual#art#chalk#sandmandala#inspired @ Barahineban

15.01.2022 To Illuminate the shadows one needs first a torch. #poetry#writing#amateur#caligraphy#quotes#philosophy

14.01.2022 Pride in the Auburn Land Homely pride, barks of Whitebox, Redwood and Paper... Between Hazel trees, Auburn eyes and rings of ruts. All the seeds, Tails of seas, bronze and golden bores of water Among honey bees, Sunburnt flies, junkyard springs and nuts. Guttural swore, No curbs mounted, dust and saw Spokes swaying through the breeze, bands of Pebbles crackle Like fathers before that our mothers bore sweet soprano and stoic baritone, mechanical cackle Kindred pack, Lethargic though Wooden glazed Sideways swinging Struts. Through bound bundles, round bales feet planted, bouncing pail burgundy, pitfall mazed smoking drums, melted souls and steely brown ales. Tattered flags, personal battles and Battered trunk. Branching back, lucky fork. Hail unorthodox halos Sitting sullen pumpkins. hell raised, horses holstered before bank Riding back, giddy, manic. Setting horizon, silhouetted silos Conserved order. Ballets for squeaking chairs and churning tables By wilting and thriving fires, under Polite pitter patter, odes circle and cycle The chaotic day is growing. Brave the brae for fables Warm murmur and Frost’s humdrum. Stainless flatter. Clinker clatter. Wirery Spectacle Comradery bolstered. Roaring callouses and hollowed eyes Standing strong we survive, we repeat, restless we run round and round grounded grains are our flowers. Watered whole-heartedly in the wry dry Silence is our nectar. Our finish is structure. until we rest in the ground

10.01.2022 A flower in blossom is like great love. It bursts with colour and burning passion; Its power overwhelms and streams from above; Of sense it gives only a small ration. The beauty of the sky matches your eyes,... Your face was crafted from angels' havens. There are no posibility of lies That all the others always have craven. The greatest gift God has created, Pretty is a lie; you're magical! Sculptures have been made but they have crumbled. Such a fate for you would be tragical. I guess what I'm trying to say to you; I would approach you on your slightest cue. -Wade Clarke. 2013 See more

06.01.2022 Follow the Instagram for more content like this at AwakeningFables