Free Thoughts~on One word...

[RhymeFairy]

Dawn :

Pronunciation dawn

Definition 1. the first daylight in the morning, or the time at which
it occurs.
Synonyms morn , morning , daybreak , cockcrow , light, sunup ,
sunrise
Crossref. Syn. prime
Similar Words daylight , twilight , prime

Definition 2. the first appearance or beginning of something long-lasting.
Example The dawn of the new century.
Synonyms birth , advent
Crossref. Syn. germ , genesis
Similar Words onset , emergence , inception , rise , commencement ,
beginning , incipience {incipient} , arrival , appearance , morning , aurora
{Aurora} , nascence {nascent} , start , outset

Related Words birth , turn , oncoming , threshold , origin



Part of Speech intransitive verb

Inflected Forms dawned, dawning, dawns

Definition 1. to start to become light in the morning.
Example The day dawned bright and clear.
Similar Words lighten , commence , begin , brighten

Definition 2. to start to grow; begin to develop.
Example A new age dawned with the invention of the printing
press.
Similar Words appear , rise , arise , commence , come , set in {set
(PHR)} , begin , start , originate

Definition 3. to start to be understood (usu. fol. by on).
Example It finally dawned on me that you were right.
Similar Words come to {come (vi)} , occur to {occur} , hit (vt) , strike (vt)


Related Words open , spring , emerge


Gooood Morning.

I draw inspiration from so many things, thoughts, people, places and you,
my friends here. But, today

...

I sip a refreshing cup.
Suspended,
in the gentle grace
of dawn.

..

~~It's a start


Happy Writing

 

[wildsweetone]

coincidentally, i wrote this a couple of hours ago.


Before Dawn Breaks

I lay listening
as you call the sun
my spoiled ears
missing the odd note.
You are better than a bugle
sweeter
stronger
and are the only thing
that could break a long night
shatter it
banish it
to the cold confines
of a bad memory.



I was referring to the Tui (a native NZ bird) that arrives every morning just on 5am, sits in the flax flowers out the back of the house and sings. I need to give it a good editing and want to include the bird itself. All in good time.

 

[Unbridled_Passion]

long before dawn
my day begins
time to go to work

quietly getting ready
so I don't wake my spouse
snuggled under the covers

still sleepy-eyed
I start the morning coffee
yawning myself awake

through the cold
lunar light shines
illuminating the way

long before dawn

 

[RhymeFairy]

coincidentally, i wrote this a couple of hours ago.


Before Dawn Breaks

I lay listening
as you call the sun
my spoiled ears
missing the odd note.
You are better than a bugle
sweeter
stronger
and are the only thing
that could break a long night
shatter it
banish it
to the cold confines
of a bad memory.



I was referring to the Tui (a native NZ bird) that arrives every morning just on 5am, sits in the flax flowers out the back of the house and sings. I need to give it a good editing and want to include the bird itself. All in good time.

I agree bring the bird in and make him real. I see him :

beyond
your words.
tree sitting, out
of peace.
awaiting the moment
to break, this
his predawn prision

 

[RhymeFairy]

long before dawn
my day begins
time to go to work

quietly getting ready
so I don't wake my spouse
snuggled under the covers

still sleepy-eyed
I start the morning coffee
yawning myself awake

through the cold
lunar light shines
illuminating the way

long before dawn

Mmmm, I love those mornings. Taking the time to wake up. Coffee in hand and a warm, snuggly smile to carry inside, throughout our day. Given to us, from a long cold night close to a warm loving body. Nice write with a hug. Love the feel here.




...


Thank You both for your visions of dawn
through the eyes of such beauty.
You have made my day.

 

[Unbridled_Passion]

another day dawns

 

[My Erotic Trail]

Another butter colored morning bloom
when the twighlight melt the night
over an ocean's lingering tail
a reflective waterway's colorful trail
woven through an entwined forest
of rolling hills, oaks and tall timbered pines.

 

[Many Feathers]

It has been a while...

And though this isn't exactly a poem, it is in a way a poem of spirit and thought.

RF...and Wild Sweet One, as you have both been there for me in so many ways, and understand much of what I have shared with you privately and personally, I post this here for you, sharing what I have experienced and discovered not only of myself, but for others whose journeys have not been that dissimilar from mine.

I hope you find it comforting, or at the very least, intriguing. And if you have any questions, feel free.

Many Feathers



I just spent three days at a sweat lodge. The first day is known as the day of the Sparrow. As a Sparrow, I learned to gather memories, sorting out those that I wish to keep, and those that were either painful, or needed to be let go of. I felt the poisons of my past, my thoughts, anger, frustration and sorrows release from every pore of my body as the heat of the sweat lodge pulled them from me. Later, I placed the sticks I had gathered that I wished to be rid of in the ceremonial fire. Naked, alone…I danced by the bonfire and allowed myself to be driven by the smoke that rose, emulating in it the visions and messages that came to me. Even with snow on the ground and the crispness of the night air, the fire was enough to cover me in its protectiveness as I danced and sang the song of my fathers and their fathers long into the night.

The second day was the day of the Crow. Here I preened my feathers, taking care to examine myself, who I once was, who I had become, and who I now wanted to be. It was a time of healing, a time to tear apart the carcass of my mistakes, accepting those I have made, vowing to learn from them and not make them again. Like the Crow, ever watchful of my surroundings and decisions, weighing carefully the risks before taking action, remembering the past and consequences of my actions. Again, feeling the heat of the sweat lodge as it cleansed and bathed me. The poisons now purged, the cleansing of my heart and spirit taking me into the now. At night, the bonfire danced as I sat and watched the flames, seeing in them purpose and renewal. I let the smoke speak, the whisper of the night winds and the shadows of my ancestors that shared with me the same paths taken, right and wrong, learning from them, marking the way forward.

The third day was the day of acceptance. I know not which sign shall be given me for it, for that is yet to be revealed. Whether it be the Eagle that shall find me, the Owl or the Hawk, the Falcon or the Raven that will lead me into tomorrow. One will come and speak to me of tomorrow, which will become then my yesterday. And though my future is short, I have accepted what is, what can never be, and what may still yet be. I ask forgiveness from my friends, those I have hurt or forgotten. For family that was distant, and in some ways may forever be, but I can now accept what I cannot change, and try to change what I cannot accept. I am ready to face whatever the future holds, meet it with determination and hope that the legacy of my life will at least leave fond memories when the time comes to embrace the Great Spirit. It is my hope that the love of my spirit for those who’s lives I have shared, touched and been apart of will forever feel the love I truly had for them. And for those I will now love, teaching and sharing that message of hope and appreciation, acceptance and understanding. Life is indeed precious, too often wasted in war, turmoil, anger and frustration at others. It is time now to forget the past, burning the twigs and sticks of painfulness, giving no name to them, and never again giving them power in thought over me. It is time to appreciate the bloom of spring flowers when they come, looking forward to colors of their beauty, the fragrance of their smells and healing powers. It is a time to sit within the meadow of my spirit and embrace the messengers who will visit with me, and lead me on my way. It is the time to appreciate those who wish to share my now with me, be thankful for their helps, love and kindnesses, and pay forward to others whose roads, paths and travels now cross my own.

 

[wildsweetone]

And though this isn't exactly a poem, it is in a way a poem of spirit and thought.

RF...and Wild Sweet One, as you have both been there for me in so many ways, and understand much of what I have shared with you privately and personally, I post this here for you, sharing what I have experienced and discovered not only of myself, but for others whose journeys have not been that dissimilar from mine.

I hope you find it comforting, or at the very least, intriguing. And if you have any questions, feel free.

Many Feathers



I just spent three days at a sweat lodge. The first day is known as the day of the Sparrow. As a Sparrow, I learned to gather memories, sorting out those that I wish to keep, and those that were either painful, or needed to be let go of. I felt the poisons of my past, my thoughts, anger, frustration and sorrows release from every pore of my body as the heat of the sweat lodge pulled them from me. Later, I placed the sticks I had gathered that I wished to be rid of in the ceremonial fire. Naked, alone…I danced by the bonfire and allowed myself to be driven by the smoke that rose, emulating in it the visions and messages that came to me. Even with snow on the ground and the crispness of the night air, the fire was enough to cover me in its protectiveness as I danced and sang the song of my fathers and their fathers long into the night.

The second day was the day of the Crow. Here I preened my feathers, taking care to examine myself, who I once was, who I had become, and who I now wanted to be. It was a time of healing, a time to tear apart the carcass of my mistakes, accepting those I have made, vowing to learn from them and not make them again. Like the Crow, ever watchful of my surroundings and decisions, weighing carefully the risks before taking action, remembering the past and consequences of my actions. Again, feeling the heat of the sweat lodge as it cleansed and bathed me. The poisons now purged, the cleansing of my heart and spirit taking me into the now. At night, the bonfire danced as I sat and watched the flames, seeing in them purpose and renewal. I let the smoke speak, the whisper of the night winds and the shadows of my ancestors that shared with me the same paths taken, right and wrong, learning from them, marking the way forward.

The third day was the day of acceptance. I know not which sign shall be given me for it, for that is yet to be revealed. Whether it be the Eagle that shall find me, the Owl or the Hawk, the Falcon or the Raven that will lead me into tomorrow. One will come and speak to me of tomorrow, which will become then my yesterday. And though my future is short, I have accepted what is, what can never be, and what may still yet be. I ask forgiveness from my friends, those I have hurt or forgotten. For family that was distant, and in some ways may forever be, but I can now accept what I cannot change, and try to change what I cannot accept. I am ready to face whatever the future holds, meet it with determination and hope that the legacy of my life will at least leave fond memories when the time comes to embrace the Great Spirit. It is my hope that the love of my spirit for those who’s lives I have shared, touched and been apart of will forever feel the love I truly had for them. And for those I will now love, teaching and sharing that message of hope and appreciation, acceptance and understanding. Life is indeed precious, too often wasted in war, turmoil, anger and frustration at others. It is time now to forget the past, burning the twigs and sticks of painfulness, giving no name to them, and never again giving them power in thought over me. It is time to appreciate the bloom of spring flowers when they come, looking forward to colors of their beauty, the fragrance of their smells and healing powers. It is a time to sit within the meadow of my spirit and embrace the messengers who will visit with me, and lead me on my way. It is the time to appreciate those who wish to share my now with me, be thankful for their helps, love and kindnesses, and pay forward to others whose roads, paths and travels now cross my own.

Such a beautiful retelling, friend...

I wish you joy in your meadow-sitting,
scent of wildflowers, and
understanding of feather flutterings.

A question... must it only be one bird that gives you the sign?

I too have been meadow-sitting -
Time is our friend,
let it embrace.

Oh, keep your Eyes open!

 

[Unbridled_Passion]

single red balloon
on a beautiful ribbon
bobbing up and down
in the wind


its a start....

 

[Many Feathers]

Thank you...

Such a beautiful retelling, friend...

I wish you joy in your meadow-sitting,
scent of wildflowers, and
understanding of feather flutterings.

A question... must it only be one bird that gives you the sign?

I too have been meadow-sitting -
Time is our friend,
let it embrace.

Oh, keep your Eyes open!

And speaking of which....looking forward to my pilgrimage back to the meadow this spring. Have one more thing I need to do up there.

Signs can come from any source, people...things...or the bird itself. Just depends on how and what is recieved, and what message (if any) is given.

And yes...def keeping my eyes and my heart open these days.

 

[wildsweetone]

And speaking of which....looking forward to my pilgrimage back to the meadow this spring. Have one more thing I need to do up there.

Signs can come from any source, people...things...or the bird itself. Just depends on how and what is recieved, and what message (if any) is given.

And yes...def keeping my eyes and my heart open these days.

...it's more keeping the mind open, I think. I felt that, strongly, when I was reading your post before and again, now, reading this.

I read a book a while back by Julia Cameron - The Artist's Way... in it she talked of synchronicity as as I worked my way through the book I was absolutely stunned on how many 'things' came to me. I would equal it to your signs, as if several signs were trying to get me to follow a certain path. It's a wonderful thing to experience.

 

[Many Feathers]

Ah yes...

...it's more keeping the mind open, I think. I felt that, strongly, when I was reading your post before and again, now, reading this.

I read a book a while back by Julia Cameron - The Artist's Way... in it she talked of synchronicity as as I worked my way through the book I was absolutely stunned on how many 'things' came to me. I would equal it to your signs, as if several signs were trying to get me to follow a certain path. It's a wonderful thing to experience.

I call them road signs for sure. A way of telling you whats ahead, or just around the corner. The Shaman I have been working with calls them "Mukua daigwape"

Or Spirit Speech. We have symbolic spiritual guides, they often talk to us in unique ways, through signs, symbolisms, or sometimes that special inner voice. So we can be given these road signs, or messages if you will in many differing ways. The trick is in learning what they mean, being patient to discover, then trusting your guides to confirm and lead you on to the next one. Sometimes...it takes many differing signs before the entire message, or story "natekwinappeh"
meaning "special sign" to be fully understood.

But yes...when it happens, it can be rather awe inspiring.

 

[My Erotic Trail]

looking for an inspirational word?
seems inspiration unfolds like wild flowers on this thread...

bows humble (~_~)

 

[wildsweetone]

...seems inspiration unfolds like wild flowers on this thread...

wild flowers you said...



Wildflowers - The Dandelion

You were cut down
only two days ago
and yet now I see
how straight and steady you stand.
Your yellow face
seeks out the sun -
a bather on the beach
burning outer skin -
blossoming under the sweet slap
of westerlies. Blue sky
dominates your stance -
no chance to droop,
sleep never arrives
under the lamp of posts.
Deprivation your motivation.

 

[Many Feathers]

Fitting...

wild flowers you said...



Wildflowers - The Dandelion

You were cut down
only two days ago
and yet now I see
how straight and steady you stand.
Your yellow face
seeks out the sun -
a bather on the beach
burning outer skin -
blossoming under the sweet slap
of westerlies. Blue sky
dominates your stance -
no chance to droop,
sleep never arrives
under the lamp of posts.
Deprivation your motivation.

Wild flower in Shoshone: Ian donziape

Wondering where our other little wild flower is? She's been away for a while here.

 

[My Erotic Trail]

Wild flower in Shoshone: Ian donziape

Wondering where our other little wild flower is? She's been away for a while here.

yep... been gone way too long (~_~)

 

[Unbridled_Passion]

just stopping by to say HELLO RF!
have a great weekend!

 

[My Erotic Trail]

guess we need to send those big, strong, handsome marines for a search and rescue for RF (~_~)

 

[My Erotic Trail]

recon reports; no sightings

 

[Many Feathers]

Yeah...

recon reports; no sightings

Am really worried about her now too...like me, she wasn't exactly in a good place the last time we spoke.

If you're out there RF...please, drop a line and let us all know you're ok. k?

You're missed honey...

 

[RhymeFairy]

No worries,

the sun shines and the horizon
stretches out with lazy clouds.
Smile, have a wonderful day
filled with the knowledge
that I am here, just beyond
the edge of the silver lining,
awaiting the new day ...



All is well. Back up and running a mile.
See if ya can keep up ...


's to all

Thank you for keeping this thread alive and well.
I love everyones writes and sooooo Happy to see ManyFeathers back too ~!!

 

[wildsweetone]

Glad you're back!

 

[Many Feathers]

So weird,,,

The Mall shootings here...we went there for dinner last weekend just outside the Spagetti factory, across from it near the stairs is the pottery barn where we browsed while waiting. Thats where four of the victims were killed. Guess thats a case of wrong place, right time.

So strange for Salt Lake though...

 

[tungtied2u]

They are everywhere
photos of mutilated bodies, perforated
newspaper stories of malnourished populations
entire nations of breathing skeletons
haunted homeless stalking alleys
the ghostly evidence of uncaring

the images drip like Chinese water torture
pound and penetrate, permeate
every cell, resonate in every fiber
until escape is impossible
you have no choice, try as you might
to turn off the faucet, you have become
inundated, unable to take a breath

without the stench of inhumanity
tainting your survival, how can you purge
the poison which now possesses you,
without ending your very existence