Linda Studley

Can't Put the Pen Down…

Archive for the tag “senses”

25 Apr 2018

One

I live in a bubble, life
playing out around me in comforting
rhythms, familiar if not predictable.
Passive spectator except on those
rare occasions when the bubble pops
and the world stands forth, stark and clean.

Colours sing that three dimensions,
five senses,
one lifetime,
are not enough
to experience a world so real
and I know that if I could just stay
outside the bubble I could hold time
in the palm of my hand, vanquish
the dragons of pain, fear, and longing, see
inside hearts, and speak without words.

Then a random, mundane thought intrudes
and the bubble sneaks up around me again, clouds
the freshness, lulls my senses.
But just before the bubble closes I wonder
‘is this what becoming one with the universe means?
Was I there and I blew it again?
Will I ever find my way back?’.

I feel in my bones this world
I’ve glimpsed is a stepping stone
to eternity and if I could just stay
long enough to find my way
I would sprout new senses, fly
into a new dimension, the next lifetime.
The dragons growl.
The bubble closes.

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29 Aug 2015

Truth and the World

Listen and the world
will whisper truth in your ear.
Truth sings in our hearts.

Observe and the world
will show you truth in small things.
Truth walks along side.

Breathe in and the world
exhales truth in every breeze.
Truth perfumes the air.

Swallow and the world
will fill you with truth’s sweetness.
Truth will sustain you.

Reach out and the world
will stand still and wait for you.
Truth will touch you back.

 

#46

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20 Aug 2015

Beauty

Beauty is not in the eye of the beholder,
the eye being just a single minded messenger who
can’t convey any but visual images.
The eye can’t breath the wild rose scent
or hear the oriole’s quavering call echo in the valley.
The eye can’t feel the damp cool of a green wood oasis
on a blazing summer day.
The eye can’t savour the hidden tang
of tiny wild strawberries bursting on the tongue.
Beauty is not in the eye, but in the soul.
It is the thrumming connection that happens
when our senses are not enough
and we forever link our heart to the beauty,
take it into ourselves and become
beautiful.

 

#37

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13 Oct 2013

Wax

Waxing philosophic for so many years has resulted
in a waxy build up on my sensory receptors.
The soft, numbing layer insulates my sensibilities,
catching and immobilizing slings and arrows,
binding them like flies in a web,
suspending them in disbelief.

Easy to rationalise, to let things slide,
subsume them into the waxy cocoon,
give the whole thing a quick polish and
start laying down the next layer.

But lately I’ve noticed crazes in the glaze.
The comfortable, hazy wax has hardened, yellowed.
It dulls my perceptions, slows my reactions,
colours my interpretations.

It may be time to strip off a few layers of comfort.
Pare off the waxy build up and the
pendant collection of outrageous fortune,
mould it all into a ball and send it rolling.

Send the whole proverbial ball of wax rolling.

 

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21 Jul 2012

Sicksth Sense

I begin to think some people go deaf in self defence
and perhaps the same extends to the other four senses.
As noise becomes unbearable, do we just shut it out
and sacrifice the birdsongs as well as the shouts?

And though we’d lose caresses too, do we insulate our skin
from the constant push and shove we immersed ourselves in?
When dietary guidelines become too much of a chore
do we decide food isn’t very interesting anymore?

Would we forego the wild rose scent just so we could shun
the smell of car exhaust and garbage rotting in the sun?
When flashing lights and gory sights make us close our eyes
will we forget to open them to a rainbow or sunrise?

It’s tempting, oh so tempting, to shut down in self defence
but I won’t because I got a message from my sixth sense
that says to make my sensory receptors more selective,
like sponges for the good stuff, for the bad stuff like reflectors.

 

#209

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