Out and About A Way Of Words In Spring by Stephen Craig Rowe

When one captures a bit of grace, it is held holy for a moment and given to the world.  The world then turns to the Universe as the unique beauty becomes of the All.  The Jonquil is as sure a sign of spring as is the Robin, warm days and rain on the ridge.  The flower is but fleeting, one day here and one day gone.  Rather like a twist of fate and more for each season brings new life, a curious change of light and joy for those who behold the symphony in awe.  As ever be well

Painting Studio All Saints Day Thank You For The Rose by Stephen Craig Rowe

Are you sure that all of the Saints were in your dreams?

No, I only pray for them.  She looked at her hands, shook her head and said.

Thank you for the rose.

As she spoke I took a drink and my thoughts were of the garden for a moment and of all the Saints.  The half moon rising above the Painting Studio this first day of November.  Then my thoughts turned into the folds of the rose and time spent in the garden this afternoon.

Are you still with me?

Yes, was just thinking about the last roses, fall, stuff like that and all of the Saints.

Are they with you?  Or what?  She said and,

I don’t know

So much of it is like poetry, grace and a song half sung

Walking is healing.  Walking with you and the roses is sweet.

Thank you for the rose.

Thank you. 

I took to the garden and the ridge free and alone for a talk with all of the Saints and a prayer on the first day of November.  As ever be well

 

 

 

Rose On The Run, A PAINTING STUDIO Poem by Stephen Craig Rowe

     Wait all the winter long for spring soft winds, rains and green in the warm for the roses.

      The colors and scents seem to close a door to the world, yet open a window.  Time in the garden, small though it is tends to take one away from the trial and strife of the day to day.

     Or so it seems to me as I get into the roses and day to day see the roses run in life from cold winter roots, tiny shoots that become buds and blossom in late spring and summer.

    There free and alone all the chit chat bird song and sound is absorbed  by the images of summer as the roses are on the run.

     Roses on the run, ever a joy.  Here today and ever in memory.

     Wonder not how sweet the blessing, but take and behold the wonder of the poetry in the fold of a rose.

     Rose on the run no one can hold you forever.  For we are also poetry held in the fold of the rose.  There but for a moments grace we hold each other in the reality of a sacred image never frozen in time, for time is all time. 

     Rose on the run, petals in the sun rain on your brow smile as sweet as summer sounds spoken in silence against a screen door slapped shut in the wind.  Spring held taught then wrap the buzz of night around you.  None of the ghosts speak but rather sneak in your sheets and surround dreams tossing and turning as real as real is.  In dreams as a rose on the  run and reflections in the  wine. 

     As ever be well,  Stephen Craig Rowe     

Painting Studio First Rose Bloom In The Small Garden 2011, by Stephen Craig Rowe

     The first rose of this year recently bloomed in my small garden and I had to take camera to the yard in order to share some of these images and words.  Am sure some are thinking, “ old Stephen is a bit nuts about his roses and into his cup of gin again”.  Fine, for this is true and would not have it any other way because of the joy found and seen in the first rose of spring as she flowers, then graces my eyes with a silent poetry, a visual affirmation that the artist is alive, well, and in tune with nature as much as one may be in the miracle of life in the all.  Or something like that as one re creates images that capture moments the painter/poet desires to share. 

     There one may begin to understand my personal feeling for the first rose of spring, for there seems to be a light within the flower that displays an energy as if the rose gives light as well as takes light.

     Though only a simple painter and sometimes bad poet there is a  profound beauty in the fold of petals of the first rose of spring.  As ever be well,  Stephen Craig Rowe

Nine Roses The Garden by Stephen Craig Rowe

Several years ago I cut some roses from my little garden and arrainged them in a champaigne flute.  Then waited for just the right light with my Cannon T50 hovering on the tripod.  When the classic composition was properly framed and the early evening light seemed to shimmer just for a moment.  I held my breath and let the shutter fly.  Later that evening at World Famous Big Al's I placed the flute of roses on the stage for a favored exotic dancer.  As she thanked me for the roses and told me how beautiful they were I saw happy tears sparkle in her eyes and smiled.

Yesterday afternoon I was able to spend some time in the small garden taking on some lite tasks of weeding and cutting back stems that winter was not kind to.  Tend to cut away the brown down to the green just above a tiny sprout.  My landlord dropped by and we made some small talk.

" Did they make it through the winter "?  He asked pointing to the roses.

" Eight of the nine did.  Don't see any signs of the JFK rose ".

" We don't have much luck with roses.  How was your trip to the VA Medical Center in Danville"?

" Mostly routine.  Lab works, a follow up interview with the surgeon, another CT scan and a visit with the wound care nurse".  It had been only 32 days since my operation I thought.  Then said,

" Will know more after the CT scan in Indianapolis later this month.  The scanner there is more advanced than the one in Danville and after the scan will meet with the radiology-oncology team".

" Hope things go well in Indy".  He said and left me to my gardening.

Time spent in the garden to me is rather like taking a walk in the woods or getting into a good book when all the trouble and strife of the world fades as one's focus is on the intricate beauty of life and thoughts are kind as they wander within and without. 

I did promise my dear friend Riette from Port Edward, South Africa a photo of the front of my house.  It is early spring and this morning is grey.  The shot was taken about an hour ago and is rather stark but as summer comes so do the hanging baskets and pots of flowers to brighten the porch.  The rest of the photographs are of the young roses and some signs of life from my walk on Saturday April 4th.

This just in from http://bobdylan.com/ 

Listen to "Feel A Change Comin' On"

From Bob Dylan's new album

TOGETHER THROUGH LIFE

http://video.newsweek.com/#?t=18540585001&l=25152707

As ever be well,  Stephen Craig Rowe

Spring and Signs of Life a New Day Turn Within And Without by Stephen Craig Rowe

Just the other day I was talking to a friend in Kokstad, South Africa about all manner of things as friends do talk about. The past, present, the now, and future. My current ills and healing and events in her part of the world. Then she asked me if I had any dreams. Before I could answer there was an activity on my street. Sirens and such three or four doors down about a flair up or whatever. I excused myself and went to the porch to snap a pic or two. It was all over before I knew it was about and the fire men were folding the hoses. Attention to detail is paramount to attention to flighty events. Though half a world away, I would rather be there than in the blind. In the dreams and in the hands and heart. There was a break in the clouds and was able to place my hands in the garden for some signs of life.

My thought was so beyond words. Then bent for some signs of life of last years roses and I was amazed

The greening and colors took me by

The Day Lily poking her head in my happy face! A good day is a long day in the light. As ever be well, With love, Stephen Craig Rowe
By the by, Tender Graces the Novel by Kathryn Magendie to be released in April is available for pre order http://www.bellebooks.com/books/TenderGraces.asp