Fall Reckoning

Fall Reckoning

by P. R. Lowe

September 6, 2020

A reckoning of fall
when all comes under the spell
of winter’s waxing
and summer splinters,
relaxing into crystal shards –
humming chords of coolness coming –
drifting and landing on small spaces,
where dragonfly faces
linger in the light
in spite of it.
We gather up the harvest –
be it real or imagined
in great skirts and aprons
of grape and saffron and green
and glean from our missteps
those things that serve
and swerve away from
those things that harm –
the alarm softly sounding in our heart,
time to part the chaff from the wheat.
We retreat again into the night
to birth the new, the good and the light.
There in peace may we be
bringing in the sun
the moon and the stars
to nourish the limbs of our tree.

Posted in Saying?Quotes | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Sometimes… No-times…These Times (Diary of a Mad Hatter)

by P.R. Lowe

copyright August 8, 2020

Woke up around 4:00 AM the other night and wrote all this down…..
Sometimes I feel as though I am a comet, hurtling through space with its tail on fire… and the best I can do is bring my knees in closer like a ball, fold both arms over my head and shield myself as best I can from the burn and flying debris.
Other times I feel like I am walking on the bottom of the ocean in slow-mo, like a ghost- sailor in Pirates of the Caribbean, with barely no life or breath left in me. Sometimes I feel as though I care far too much… other times I don’t seem to care at all. Sometimes I feel like the last one of my kind left on the planet and all I want to do is run and hide in a hole in a tree.
Sometimes I feel like just another bubble in someone else’s dirty, soapy dishwater. Other times I feel as though I need a degree in rocket science just to fart without blowing my head off.  As George Harrison once said, “It’s all too much.” but then again perhaps it’s just enough…

Sometimes when I have finally cozied up, peacefully rubbing my cat… I feel like Nero fiddling while Rome burns.

But….then… I go into the woods with the dancing trees and I feel perfectly sane.


Posted in Auto-writing and Remembering, Diary of a Mad Hatter | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Lost In My Own Bones

Lost in My Own Bones
by P R Lowe
June 27, 2020
Show me something beautiful
tell me something good
for I am feeling lost in my own bones
and cannot seem to get home
to somewhere I should be
melancholy waves of song
of somewhere I belong
pour out from the tree of my heart
and ride the tide from the vast ocean inside
where I am part of something grand
I feel it, hear it, and know it
yet cannot seem to speak it or show it
so others might understand


Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The Eye of The Storm (Diary of a Mad Hatter)

Diary of a Mad Hatter
The Eye of The Storm
By P R Lowe
June 23, 2020
Enough is enough is enough…..
some times, in these times, I feel as though I am standing still in the middle of a hellacious f***ing storm that is whirring wildly around me….I find myself telling myself, “Don’t listen to it, don’t watch it, and definitely stay out of it.” A tornado comes to mind….and the stillness in the eye of the storm. Am I in the eye of the storm???? Perhaps that is not such a bad place to be? The storm will surely wear itself out, the whirring will stop, the dust will settle and I will find myself in a different place than where it all began. Maybe there will even be a yellow brick road to follow and “ding dong” the wicked will be dead………

Posted in Diary of a Mad Hatter | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Extremely Relevant Irrelevance

from Diary of a Mad Hatter

by P. R. Lowe, June 2nd

There was a wee gnat…on my knee as I settled into drink my tea. I picked it up to send it away ….and of course…I squashed her/him…I killed it…”What a thug! I suddenly thought of myself!” Without a thought or care I snuffed out this Life…not even really thinking about it being a life, really, until the deed was done. I was then suddenly aware…(again) …because I have been here before…moving fire logs or stones and inadvertently destroying lives and homes…ants, bugs, worms  lizards…entire communities. I am reminded of a time when I used to weed eat and mow for pay and eventually stopped…too many severed arms, legs. and wings flying about, and sticking to my trousers…as I became transported into the pain and fear and chaos I was creating… I just couldn’t do it any more. This may seem extreme to some…but at the heart of it, isn’t there some profound underlying “something” that is truly relevant and worth a ponder? Do humans do this to other humans? We know they tend to do so to animals and creatures and beings of other realms…perhaps not out of malice or viciousness,  but simply because they do not see or hear them… they are not even there or “real”to them. An insignificant gnat on the knee? Perhaps these humans only feel present, or a part of a very, very tiny world where they are king (or Queen)… basically the chosen one… the divine sovereign and ruler??? Their wake up call is on the way…..

Posted in Diary of a Mad Hatter | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Too many words….

from Diary of a Mad hatter

P. R. Lowe, May 30, 2020

Too many voices

Too many words

Too many lies pushing to be heard…..

If you must talk to someone, speak with the trees…better yet just sit with them quietly and listen. “Can you let go of the crap? Can you be more beautiful in your home? your body? your mind? your spirit? Can you let all the meaningless dialogues, opinions and warring defenses slough off your back, down the hill and into the creek and down to the river, and on to the ocean where they sink into the cool nothingness… where they mutate into whale song?

Posted in Diary of a Mad Hatter | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

…if only with the moon

from Diary of a Mad Hatter, P. R. LOWE , May 24, 2020
The ravens speak to me from the trees…the world is still and quiet…a heaviness hangs in the air. Sunlight and moisture dance together around the forest floor to encourage and sustain life… I thrive on their rhythm. The peaceful bird song brings me once again to a healing space. I ask to carry this out of the woods…and into my home…and into my day…and into my life…and to share these wondrous gifts…if only with the moon…  

Posted in Diary of a Mad Hatter, Joy Pages, Touching The Earth, walking with trees, Wondrous Things | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Someone Was Here Before Me

Someone was here before me,

dancing around the tree……

Posted in Diary of a Mad Hatter, Joy Pages, Poetry, Touching The Earth, walking with trees, Wondrous Things | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

wondrous things…

Things become clearer to me in the woods.

From afar…..

closer look…

Posted in Joy Pages, Wondrous Things | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

A re-blog for these times

copyright © August 30, 2017

by P. R. Lowe

What one believes becomes real on some level, but often what one believes is an illusion created by external forces. Often the surreptitious information from these sources has shifted the wiring in the brain and affected our abilities to heal ourselves and to love others (others meaning “all others”, including rocks and trees and rivers and rain drops). And I am not talking the kind of love we usually consider to be love, such as romantic attachments or sexual attractions. I’m not sure it can even be described by limitless words. It is of the truly true variety.

There is a truth that tells you to love, to forgive, to have compassion, to share and be respectful of your environment and all it’s inhabitants, (breathing and non breathing). Then, there is a truth that tells you that you are running of time and threatened by your environment and almost everything in it, that you must work hard and earn your place here through struggle and control; to overcome your environment and get what you can while you can before its too late or before some other body (human or creature) gets it first.

There are other truths of course, but these two stand out as the major forces that drive us and also drive us apart. They have been at odds for millennia (ever since man hit the planet running). But there is a place deep in the forest where neither one of them matter at all. A place so pure with love and joy that not even death can separate them from everything that is; the presence of being —where no side is chosen, where being is enough — “love and joy” being simple words to describe a place of divine presence, where every creature every leaf, stick, rock is held in an unerring equality that most humans have forgotten or have never known or fail to recognize when it is upon them because of what they “believe”, which brings me back to where I started.

That there are two sides and one must choose is the biggest lie of all.

deep in the forest

This entry was posted in Voices of The Valley and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Edit

Leave a Reply


| Leave a comment