Tag Archives: Ancient

Two Drops of Sun (day 2231)

Two drops of sunlight
Touched my nose today
Remind me of each footstep
We took together
Across each softened craggy rock
To the ancient sea so cold
Low we crawled on all four limbs
To brave into the depth
A slimy plunge
Such great refresh!
And dried by two drops of sun

Tea (day 2204)

Make me reel in your sweetest tea
I hear scarlet raindrops
Opening every door so tenderly
Saturate my safely laid plans
With incandescent luminosity
Breaking my lucid dreaming
With delicate fingerprints
Dancing faster then I had imagined
In a gallery of ancient symbols.

Ancient Ilk (day 2200)

This is my primitive shit
My unconditional
Motivated by another force
Called a different name
Hung with different nails
Wood of an ancient ilk.

This is the voice ignored
The silenced, betrayed
A crashing of stillness
That left cracks
Spreading to remind me
I haven’t changed
Just remembered.

The Ancient Sword That Stole Away With You (day 2195)

If I could be the ancient sword
That stole away with you
One waltz that takes us merrily
To the sea so free.
Each bond you felt that held you back
I’m your liberating sharp
Whimsically eager at your call
Lightly laying aside ageing leaves
Floating our minds upon the breeze.
For your sup I’d fix your cut
Sliced so fine, no toil to chide
A glass of wine to ease your mind
Relax upon my sturdy spine
Your head upon my shoulder.

Find You Here (day 2180)

I never wanted to catch you here
Between poplars, cedars, Douglas fir
Bending each midday breath
No, I never wanted to find you here
In lush green grass and blooming lilacs.

I had a dream that felt the wind
So here I came to let you in
I never wanted to find you here
Though my ancient roots held me near
My leaves they blew into air
With grasping hands I let you float
Though in my mind I never lost
What you knew now was dandelion
And I never wanted to find you here.

Ancient Seabird (day 2179)

When wounds of Ancient Seabird
Flush over each cresting wave
A reverie ensues
Collected with raindrops
From ocean condensation.
Mother cries, laments,
Spreads her tears
Into spraying breeze
That wafts over heralded rocks
Sentinels standing guard
Waiting for the bleeding
To dampen each succulent
Feeding fears forgotten
And the breath
Of Ancient Seabird.

Ancient Forest, Ranger (day 2142)

Walking through the ancient forest
I pick up broken sticks
I pick up what has left the home
To wander alone, to wander, Ranger.

Many times I’ve shared my thoughts
With wholesome handsome faces,
In a trunk of ancient bark
I sing songs of fallen trees
That show me signs of what has begun
In silver rays of spying lightness
And broken sticks below my foot
Though an ancient forest I remain.

Bled My Raindrops (day 2120)

Listen to raindrops fall
I thought I heard to let it go
Sadness in an old song
And my heart is letting go
To me, I’m still beating there
Go back, take the slower track
In a mind of losing me
I called out to a golden eagle
Take me to the sun
Today I ran today I run
Today I found a trail
Through a suffering forest
They call Ancient Wisdom
I led my heart
Through the roots
To place it at a base
Of Old Man Beard and his setting sun
That bled my raindrops dry.

Shawnigan Lake - Ned Tobin

White Blues (day 1921)

It was late, early as the birds wake. The sun making it’s trajectory project through blind slits that tickled my nose and ruffled pure white sheets that smelled of everything I had ever dreamed. I wished I had worn my own button up so she could wear it, cotton thoughts underneath the purest thoughts I could believe, her ear lobe dangerously close to my sanity I buried deep into the sleepy eyes she wiped away.

She was business and I was coffee on Sunday morning. Her ancient wooden bowls with carved and stained mosaics sat on bare shelves between three curiously new vinyl records I had yet to identify or spin, so my bare feet sadly ripped spaces beside this cocoon to leave invisible heat scores on a treasure hunt around pieces of clothing that each had still alive memories attached, each a little puddle of our reserve that began as we stepped towards our island.

As the needle scratched dangerously towards the first note, it was the crackling that trumped even her cigarette into casual, I spotted her pinstripe skirt, now draped across the wicker chair underneath a baby blue Fender Telecaster she had plugged into a tiny hand held amplifier to show me what she knew of blues.

I propped myself up with her pillow and through the patio window I saw she was looking at me.

photograph courtesy of model / Lisa // photography / Jen Hill

photograph courtesy of model / Lisa // photography / Jen Hill

Ageless Rhythm (day 1853)

Your holy high is the rise to my shine
A moment of passage in mind
With a long list of ancient goddesses
Calling out my wild name.
Pause to reflect, innocent syndicate
Step light with our toes
Toes toes toes toes
In forever reverberate
Get undulated pride high
At the top of my wigwam
And dance on
To the ageless rhythm of our bright future.

Ageless Rhythm by Ned Tobin

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