Painting Studio Quiet In The Night On And In The Night On…

October 31, 2011Stephen Craig Rowe2 comments

They said some were silent. They said some were loud. The voices could not hear inside their own heads for the quiet was so profound. A fog took some to sleep in dreams and woke them in sacred memories. A time between and twixt the rail on the road.
I could hear the trains and smell the stations. Cold hot steel wheels bending around and back again. Oil and electricity, a scent of fear, a scent of hope, a scent of home, a yearning. A pause. The hat and overcoat drawn taught in Chicago winds, wound down Lake Shore Drive and up town. Down and back to Oak Park, to Barrington, to the Ranch. To Wizard swamp, a magical place for sure and Merlin’s river. A small stream but with a magical quality.
They said some were silent. Liberty left the station hand bag in her hand, red bandanna waving in the smoke and steam. Dragon woke, rolled a tight one and went into the dream.
Are you ok?
I think so. How are you?
Better now that I am with you.
Do you remember?
No darling. Let us just forget
Wine?
Yes please.
Are you ok?
Thank you for the wine my dear
and your time.
As ever be well

PAINTING STUDIO Walking on Ridge by Stephen Craig Rowe

 

Walking on the ridge some things are seen as on the edge.  As in a change of seasons one becomes quiet and watches.  Just take a bit of time to see.

Some images are striking enough to be in and a part of rather like a poem or something.  One’s sight at times must be shared for there you are.  The image of the moment is once only a singular event.

Rather like grain in light and

Poetry on the ridge.  As ever be well,  Stephen Craig Rowe

PAINTING STUDIO Half Moon Stars On The Road To The Garden An Indian Summer Kind Of Day By Stephen Craig Rowe

Roses sleep in deep frost as leaves turn and softly fall.

There but for a moments grace one is swept away in the beauty of a change of seasons.

In the light of life.

There is a rush to hush.  A push and pull, a giving that is a gain.  In the change of seasons.

Enjoy the contrast of color and light,  see all that  you can see, and as ever be well,  Stephen Craig Rowe

A Poet On The Phone With Heart In Farm

http://youtu.be/OP-msG0Ku3w
There are time for words and time for images.  There is a time for silence and time for time.  Or something like that.  Fall is a season or a choice of words that recall my time on the farm, or the ranch as it was well known to those in Barrington.  In the mean time I post this from my dear friend, and as ever be well

PAINTING STUDIO In A Space Between The Words Silence Is Spoken by Stephen Craig Rowe

 

September roses yawn after August heat and pale flowers wilt with light sifted through silver clouds.

Bright as salvation in the early fall.  Cool as a quiet twilight gloaming and silent between the words where poetry is spoken.

There the quality is grace of experience and given.  As ever be well,  Stephen Craig  Rowe

Full Moon Of August by Stephen Craig Rowe

With one hand in the earth and one hand in the sky

Sleep does not come easy in light of the August moon.

Dreams wrap around a breeze, flapping window shades all night long, in and out of tossing and turning a glow of silver blue in and through the clouds.  With one hand in the sky soar

As stars rain in the garden.

In light of the August moon.

As ever be well.  Stephen Craig Rowe

Sand, Stone, Stars, Sun And My Son Half A World Away

Photos by Adam Rowe.  Text by Stephen Craig Rowe

     Half a world away my son is serving with a Special Forces Unit somewhere in Afghanistan.   Adam posted some photographs on Facebook and gave permission for me to share a few of them here.   He and some of his unit were recently on ten day convoy.  During that time there was no communication home or posting on the internet.  I was very glad to learn that Adam and all of those with him on the convoy returned to base safe.

Exploding roads, temps averaging around 110 or so and sleeping in the open under the stars is not a vacation.  For the soldiers it is a vocation.  It is a job they have chosen to do and they do it well. 

Maybe Congress should take their vacation in Afghanistan, or better yet get back to work and serve the United States Of America.

If you can read thoughts, there are no need for words.

Half a world away it is as though there are no need for words.  I see it in your eyes my son, and know that you know.  Be safe and as ever be well.