Reality Creation: Meditation, Painting and Life

Original Painting by Jason Weaver 2016

Thoughts
entwine in my mind as though
it was not my mind at all, but rather
the open air, an
ethereal canvas where
they
dart and zip like bees
in……and out
or swing and dip like
leaves blown in on a summer wind,
they
crawl and burrow deep within
the dampened earth and birth
memories
crusted in sap and mud,
love and blood – thoughts
on strings that stitch and sew
every stick and stone herein,
they
lace me to this place
raw burnt bronzed
we are
a confluences of ceaseless streams,
endeavors that begin
and end ever again
turbidity placidity chaos
calm, I must
breathe
in……and out
I must
wake adapt become
the thread that seams
this dream within a dream, I must
BALANCE between
the known and the unknownable,
the fluid and the indestructible,
the part and the whole,
weaving
a tapestry
of reality

by Jason Weaver, 2016

Original Painting, Riacho na Serra (Parnaso, RJ, Brasil) (2015-2016) Acrylic on Canvas (70×100 cm)

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Element

Pedras Agua e Luz by Jason Weaver LoveMore Studio

Reduced to dust
from whence we came
I dissolve within the
elemental stream and
quietly settle in between
sun and earth and stone
never more
to be alone.

by Jason Weaver, 2014

Original painting acrylic on canvas Pedras, Agua e Luz (2014) 70cmx120cm by Jason Weaver

as I see it…

no
tippy-toe-ing
no more
to and fro-ing
no doubt will keep me
second guessing
deeply messing with my
mind
no
not this time

I go in
head
prime

As I See It

Author’s Note: Poetic response to a fun, semaphoric (140 character) riddle prompt by Samuel Peralta tonight at Dverse poetry pub– check it out!
Update:  The photograph above is rotated 180º to show the water as it would look if one dove in head first– like in the words above, “as I see it…” diving into LIFE without further ado. ~peace, Jason

Of Water

Rockwater_LoveMoreStudio

Today, she wakes
by the pale blue light of morn,
tired, and frail, and worn to the bone.

This day,
as she does all of her days now,
she will set foot to the hills,
her silver hair put in a scarf of silk,
and bearing the wounds of her years
in an old and rusted pail made of tin
that digs into the
thin of her weary hands.

She will walk to a spot by the stream
where the waters run
silent, and clean, and still.
It is here, in a spill of sun
that she will lift and pour
from her bucket of sorrow,
her soul in a wash of shallows,
knowing that tomorrow
there will be ever more.

by Jason Weaver, 2013

Thanks to Dverse Poet’s Pub for the inspiration, written in response to poetry prompt “body of water.” Come link up or check out what others are writing! ~peace,  Jason

Tangerine


Round rigid mount I’d scaled
apace off-beaten trail where
I’d found within
this peculiar place
a bluff of jutted stone

Atop its rough I sit alone
my feet aswing
I eat the fruit of tangerine
and cast its seeds
to the vast ravine below.

Closer to the edge I slip
as citrus lingers sticky-sweet
with drips of salted sweat
‘pon my lips and fingers wet
and dribbles on my chin

Soon
as heat of high-noon sun
batters hard on my unclad skin
therein I seek the heavens clear
and off the peak I plunge

By Jason Weaver

Authors’ Note: at dVerse today, we’re writing descriptive poems in which we use images to describe a feeling, a truth, a person, using primarily surroundings.. in other words.. imagist poems that have an embedded message..Check it out!