RHYMES&REASONS

Observations, Thoughts and Reflections on 21st Century Life

Tag: Dreams

Yesterday’s Gone

I waited. Two score years then ten.

Boredom reigned as time strode past.

You flirted and waved, your sunlight cast

Till the treadmill called to shackle again.

I carried the promise, I cradled belief

That one morning I would wake

My passion before me there to take.

No longer a dream you were every relief.

And now we dance, the rhythm of life

 Intimate moments yet strangers remain

Master and slave passion’s loss and gain

 As I strive to please frustration is rife.

Just like a moth I’m drawn to the light

Of creation’s promise, each hue I fashion

 I seek the sweet moment of artist’s passion

As I step away to see that all has come right.

‘Yesterday’s Gone’ by Rebecca Pells Fine Art

Letting Go

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 Yesterday, I  set out to paint a small abstract as a loosening up exercise.  The aim was to let go of  anything representational but within minutes of starting I began to see a landscape emerge – trees, a shoreline, however vague and probably not what someone else would have seen at all.  At this point I started to follow the direction I thought the painting was leading me, believing it was supposed to be this way.  As a result, I forced the image to materialise into something vaguely resembling an alpine lake landscape and in so doing, deprived it of it’s true potential as an abstract painting.

We are surrounded by a world full of names, categories, labels, titles and tags.  We love to name – it helps us to locate, formulate and store information.  It helps us to feel in control of an increasingly complex environment.  We have become so adept at this method of ordering, that we do it unconsciously, habitually and whilst it is of great assistance in a technical world it can have the opposite effect when used in situations which need to evolve naturally.

Naming of a person or situation leads to unrealistic expectations – whole scenarios can be played out in our minds which bear little resemblance to reality.  We become disillusioned, angry and blame others for not fulfilling our dreams.  We can never know early on in our work, friendship or relationship what kind of experience we will have together.  If we name a romance too early we demand reciprocation, we force a reward – like fruit grown out of season it lacks longevity  – we deny the relationship the chance to flourish and bear fruit as a natural progression.

By naming too soon we close off possibilities of something finding it’s own level, we reject it’s true potential, it’s own representation and deny ourselves of the gift it may have to offer.  If we can be brave enough to let go of the confining boundaries of naming, then by so doing just maybe we will experiencing something beautiful.

Transition

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Listen for the voices urging us heave

quieten the whispers of they who leave.

  Those memories which sear recall with care

a wound opened, too sore to bear.

Afraid to forget, moments linger still

tempting and taunting as dreams beyond will.

Nothing to trust but the beckoning haul

of voices and future yet to call.

003‘Chasing Reflections’ by Rebecca Pells Fine Art

https://www.fineartseen.com/product/chasing-reflections/

The Bridge

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You wake one morning and sense a change, a slight shifting of the sand,

a murmured whisper, the faintest touch upon your hand.

Was it the waking from a dream or the mourning of a death,

was it joy anew of passion found or the drawing of first breath?

Was it the void of emptiness or vast realm of possibility,

was it the final release or acceptance of futility?

With a backward glance I view the bridge where yesterday I stalled

until the night stepped forth and accepting as it called

I gave surrender as it carried me across.

http://www.rebeccapells.co.uk/

Between the Lines

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Weave  between the lines you see;  search for what lies beyond,

the portal to a life lived four score years plus ten and then four more.

Cocooned in a chair, reduced in presence and time as synapse fade

but within those four walls a human soul beats on,

  memoir script upon her face, invites us as witness, scribe to her life.

Touch gently that place,  the trigger to find, a flicker of recognition

lights up the entree to memories, illuminated, transported in time.

Each crease, every fold of sagging, mottled skin belies a chapter,

an experience gained, a lesson learned, heartbreak and joy.

As a pebble dropped in stagnant pond, ripples radiate

 as rings in a trunk strip back the years in lucid clarity.

 Hesitant at first, then like a wave memories flow

 to wash upon the shore where long held dreams splash forth

and like a child  she dances once more.

Changing of the Guard

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I woke this morn and sensed the changing of the guard

Summer’s twilight slipped into autumn’s first dawn.

Reluctant to cross this threshold once more

Au revoir summer’s promise unripened by drought.

And let go the dream sustained by hope

  Release that which can no longer be held.

Fade to autumn, the hue I must reside

And cherish sweet memory with wistful smile.

Painting ‘Antique Roses’ by Rebecca Pells

available from https://www.artfinder.com/product/antique-roses-fa34/

 

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