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The Constant Gardener

by Bela Johnson | Apr 18, 2013 | healing, inspiration, nature, poetry, Uncategorized

We contain it in consciousness; Remember, so we do not forget, and get on with our lives or risk drowning in despair.   Each day pregnant with unknowing, we risk all by walking out the door; mingling with the masses or digging in the soil. Even there, shards of...

SINE QUA NON

by Bela Johnson | Apr 11, 2013 | inspiration, musings, personal, poetry, Uncategorized, writing

  I write. Not because I must, or because I am compelled by some unseen force like the devil nipping at my backside. I used to write to expel emotion, to coax forth whatever poison lingered from the confusion of youth, to purge whatever angst, anger, judgment and...

In Transitu

by Bela Johnson | Apr 9, 2013 | healing, inspiration, musings, personal, poetry, Uncategorized

There are times when the veil is drawn.   Days go missing, while retreat seems the only option – Time away from the world to heal; to gather fragments and splinters back to a body weakened with pain and strange imaginings.   Many eschew the need...

Safe Harbor

by Bela Johnson | Mar 27, 2013 | inspiration, musings, nature, philosophy, poetry, Uncategorized

  Like clouds of breath rising from a steaming tub or the formless spines of cumulus; Untethered thoughts wander, free of their mooring in the harbor of the heart.   Vexation arises – too much elemental air. We need earth to  grow: tunnels of wriggling...

Clean Sweep

by Bela Johnson | Mar 19, 2013 | happiness, inspiration, lifestyle, nature, poetry, Uncategorized

Swelling waters crash over concrete jetties, sweeping docks clean of debris: cigarette butts, bottle tops, Friday night remainders. Still, in we jump – glad of the sea and movement away from whatever it is binding us to despair and blinding us to...

Headlights

by Bela Johnson | Mar 4, 2013 | lifestyle, nature, personal, poetry, random thoughts, Uncategorized

I cannot wear sequins. A closet full of skirts and dresses tried on over the years; wishful thinking.   What I do, where I live does not lend itself to swoops of air between the legs; bluster and sparkle.   No need for headlights.   It feels like a...
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