Image by KELLEPICS from PixabayA city encircled by history, Ouroboros in re-hewn stone, Roman roads, Viking fjords, horns of change fiercely blown Soldiers build and farmers sow reap the crops for leavened bread, while settling, groaning ancient stone draws memory from a silken thread

Image by Michael Knoll from Pixabay

Image by Dan Fador from PixabayOn top of the world gales wander a maze of grass as the tundra dreams.So often the place we inhabit influences our inner world more than is initially apparent on the surface. I see this in my daily life as someone who feels a strong connection with nature, but lives in a city.

A friend came to me last night in a lucid dream, dead eight years, sly and whispering. He said – “Drink in the truth, don’t deny a place for the dead and the dying.Open the doors and let them in, as there are plenty who need refuge, a deluge that needs a course to run for all the dead and the dying.”

Photo by Zukiman Mohamad on www.pexels.comSails whip, howling as the ship slices the night in two. Like fishing line you cut me - unfolding.Sun beats down. a single cloud frowns in tepid blue, petulant, like you closing me down.

Bloody minded memories, paper-plate faces                                  follow me.I paint on features - creatures of my creation. Red dead lips that kiss, and tickle my                  S                  t                  e                  m