The Sky and Me

cornfield with clouds overhead
What I see when I look out my window now.

Take your cities
Take your stores and theaters
Take your histories and markets
I’ll take the open sky
Where I can see
The sun rise and moon set

Take your cities
Take your events and ease of living
Take your things to do
I’ll take the open sky
Where the stars are

Here the woods are still wild
Where the hawk flies and wolves hunt
Where the sky is a canvas
And the stars are bright

Take your cities
Take your wonder and opportunities
I’ll take the sky
Where I can stand and breathe
Where I can hear my thoughts

Take your cities
Take your crowded streets
Take the stench of cars and trash
Where the city is always abuzz
Leave me where the air is free
And the hawk cries

Just leave me be
Where the sky stretches
And the world seems large
And I feel the wonder again
Just leave me and the open sky

The Morning Breaks

blue sky and sliver of a yellow sunrise

The morning breaks
Silent and still
No bird to hear
No traffic sound
Bare feet
Upon wet grass
Cold to toes
Yet sweet on lips
A strange smell
Upon the morning air
To make the mind wonder

The morning breaks
Full of wonder
The only sound
Is the heart that pounds
As the sun awakes
The morning coldness
Chased away
By the warmth
Of the coming day

The Morning breaks
Slowly at first
Till bird sings
And wind stirs
Then the magic breaks
And the day hurries in
The darkness flees
And the light rushes in
Till the signs of dawn
Are swept all away
My heart will cherish
The silence of the day

Friday Thoughts: Becoming Great

Good morning! I hope your Friday will go well. This week, I have thought a lot about what makes a person “great” at something. What makes a basketball player talented or a gymnast a natural? What gives that person the “bend” for science or computer programming? Natural born gift? Or something that has to be worked on every day?

For me, it is both. Sometimes it is a natural bend. Most of the time it is practice and training that makes a skill natural for an individual.

As someone who thought that graphic design was out of my league, I find myself working as a designer. For a while, I knew what the answer was but I struggled with putting it into words. Then I came across a comic strip created by The Awkward Yeti (a fantastic artist and writer). Below is his comic:

Comic Strike from the Awkward Yeti
This comic was created by “The Awkward Yeti” All rights and usage belong to “The Awkward Yet”.
Please visit his website for more laughter:
http://theawkwardyeti.com/

As you can see, both “Heart” and “Gallbladder” started at the same point in time. A shapeless lump that looks like a yellow Ditto. But where Heart stared and wished that he was better, Gallbladder kept at it. He made some funny looking pieces and even found himself disappointed in the resulting work. But he kept practicing and researching by producing sculptures and looking things up.

The end result is Gallbladder has created a recognizable art piece.

 

And yes, some people are truly born with a natural gift. But that means nothing if one does not apply that skill every day. Refining it. Sharpening it.

It takes a desire to master the talent as well as investing hours of time. It takes determination to overcome obstacles and a willingness to try.

Whatever you want to do. Whatever your dream is. The only way to know if you can do it is to go for it.

P.S.: Special thanks to “The Awkward Yeti” for giving permission  to use his comic. Visit his website at http://theawkwardyeti.com/

Have a great weekend, folks!

Wandering Soul

Hour by Hour
Day by Day
I toil and ply my trade
Sun up to sun down
I work all day

Yet my soul is far away
Past the cold buildings
Beyond the paved roads
My soul wanders alone

Through distant woods
Beneath star filled skies
My soul walks afar

It links by the streams
Of hidden valleys
It stands upon mountain tops
And distant ocean shores

Though my feet have never tread
This distant places
Nor has my eyes seen these sights
My soul lives there now
And my heart longs to join

Where Home Is

The smell of wood smoke upon the air
Mixed with the smell of birch and evergreen
The cold wind nipping at skin
The golden leaves blazing in the dusk light
That is what I call home

The sky painted orange and purple
The leaves crunching underneath
My breath hanging in the air
And the sound of the wind in the trees
This is what I call home

If home is where the heart is
Then my home is far away
Along the mountainside
Where the forest lies
And the sky is pure
That is where my home is

Where the stars are thousands strong
Where the moon is clear and pure
Where wolves sing and hawks cry
Where the deer passes and northern lights dance
There my heart lies

One day I shall return to my home
One day I shall go where my heart is
Until then I shall dream of it