A Whisper Of Artful Bliss

Artwork courtesy of Brent Funderburk

http://www.brentfunderburk.com/

Up in the clouds

Bubbling with enthusiasm

Floating on the laughter of the wind

Encased in a gleaming globe of florescence

I begin the slow descent back to earth

*

Drifting amongst a wide variety of wandering nomads

Mingling invisibly – clear of all discerning thoughts

I find myself suddenly able to tickle fancies at will

The thrill of randomly producing joy moves me to tears

A whisper of artful bliss signals the magnitude of the dream

*

~ After a few quick blinks ~

I awaken to a meeting with Destiny

Edging near to the threshold

Seeing eye to eye with the bottomless abyss

I come to realize why this might look dangerous to a mere passerby

To one who prefers to walk safely on paved sidewalks

Little do they know how fear can morph into intrigue with wings

There will be no falling without flying by the seat of your pants!

*

*

http://www.nps.gov/maca/index.htm

Mammoth Cave National Park

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28 thoughts on “A Whisper Of Artful Bliss

  1. Awesome! I am moved. I believe, my hand shall paint a picture today. It will show my wings in flight. My landing strip …none. My wings reach far and wide. Let the journey be in full color. ~j~

  2. Uncle Tree, I have had my fair share of intriguing dreams but I have never dreamt that I was flying. Too bad the one the author writes about is imaginary.

    Thanks a lot for sharing. God bless.

  3. Frankly, Noel, I imagine there’ll be parts of Heaven
    that are precisely as I imagine them to be.
    Thanks be to God for my day dreams!
    Thanks be to you for visiting!
    Thinking large, UT πŸ™‚

  4. Oh, gravity, where is your hinge?

    No doubt, Uncle Tree, very near the seat of our pants!

    Wonderful art evoking a cascade of your shimmering leaves πŸ˜‰

  5. I’m sorry, Noel. Frankly is a word I rarely use. I don’t want
    to talk down to you for that would be disrespectful of me.
    Perhaps, I misunderstood this sentence you wrote:
    “Too bad the one the author writes about is imaginary.”

    The author is me. Everything you read in my house belongs
    to Uncle Tree. When I quote folks, I always leave their name.

    Thank you for letting me know you were in agreement with
    my first reply. Whew! That’s good. Glad you think so, too. πŸ™‚

  6. Thank you, Ed! πŸ™‚

    We do have to wing it without wings,
    same as we have to play it by ear – the same ears by which
    gravity steadily lengthens by the years.

    Whispers, I hear. πŸ™‚

  7. Very nicely written…your words take the reader to a new place, or more like the reader is transported and following/flying/flowing with the words. It’s probably different for each reader, but that’s what I felt reading.

    The written word seems like a place of freedom for you, Uncle Tree…and I’m so glad for you to have it. πŸ™‚

  8. Thank you for taking the time to come and visit me, Mrs. Rapp!
    And I doubly thank you for that oh-so fine compliment!

    The written word holds but a few restraints on me, Karen.
    The world makes demands upon one’s time , which is limited.
    Uncle Tree needs his space, and I need him to keep on growing.

    I’m so very glad you liked this presentation! πŸ™‚ Luvz and hugz, UT

  9. Beautiful is – just a smattering of Time’s smearing lines –
    over, above, and on through the canvas full of stars in which
    we live and have our being, thanks to our beatific Creator!

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