

Seasons are changing
I’m surprised to find myself In
In a spring awakening
Possibilities bloom
While dreams grow deep roots
-gws


Seasons are changing
I’m surprised to find myself In
In a spring awakening
Possibilities bloom
While dreams grow deep roots
-gws


American Bison are commonly known as the American Buffalo
And are the national mammal of the United States
These grand beasts have evolved to adapt to the harsh North American Great Plains winters
They have vast biological adaptations to allow them to thrive in the volatile environment
They evolved physically optimized to survive
Yet their most fascinating adaptation is behavioral
Unlike nearly every other wild and domestic creature
Buffalo do not flee from the sweeping brutal storms that cross the landscape
They put down their massive heads and turn into the maelstrom
They meet the fury and ferocity eye to eye
They seem to inherently understand
The only way out is through
Resisting the sky is futile
The sooner the storm is met
The less time it has to intensify
The sooner they can emerge from its dangers
No wonder indigenous people hold them sacred
To meet the fury of nature unflinchingly
Steadfast and secure in the innate knowing
Passed down through generations
That buffalo are built to endure
Creating their own harmony with their world
Writing their own survival rules
Wise teachers for us all
-gws


I want to splash the darkening sky with rivers of fire
Purples and reds and luminous oranges of sunset
And the waters will abstract my painting in its dark mirror surface
Making an abstract of my realism
A dream of my reality
-gws


Spring has arrived
Birds sing sweetly
In quickening branches bursting with blooms
My winter soul peers out of bleary eyes
Before I pull the covers over my head
-gws


Isn't it funny how carpenter bees think themselves no less dainty than honey bees?
They faithfully believe the flower will support them even when the stem bends toward the ground.
They aren't exactly wrong.
-gws


The days grow longer
Promised manifestation
Renewal and hope
-gws


I want to revisit the joy of cartwheels in summer grass
Serenaded by the wing beats of bees and the chorus of hummingbirds and sparrows
I want to drowse amongst dandelions while playing
Warshak games with passing clouds in azure skies
I want to hide beneath curtains of willow branches
Making friends of the trees with whispered secrets
I want to run time backward
To when summer days were never ending
And daydreams frolicked in the warmth of long lazy unburdened afternoons
I want to sit suspended in the amber of youthful memory
Its glowing lens casting every scene in warm nostalgic hues
Golden hour light cast upon fading Kodachrome images
That compose dust mote-filled summer slideshows of my heart
-gws

The enduring redwood is dead
Meant to withstand
Storm and fire and drought
Heartwood rotted from within
Disease and neglect
Claimed their prize
A reminder that
Sometimes good things die
-gws

The world quiets beneath a blanket of white
Sounds are muffled
Time slows
There is no hurry here
The landscape sleeps
Stillness, like a spell
Descends upon all things
My mind wanders about in this peace
Leaving no footprints in the snow
I am freed of my burdens
Allowed to drift like a shade
Below the frosted boughs
Delighting in the joy of winter’s slumber
-gws

I identify with Persephone
I am a spring maiden at heart
Celebrating life’s sunshine and rainbows
A believer in growth and renewal
Optimistic and hopeful
I also hold a dread queen in my soul
Content to sit quietly in darkness
Observant and calculated
Unafraid of the shadows
Happy to don my crown
Glimmering with pomegranate seeds
The color of blood
To remind the foolish
I am not the one
-gws