In Our Days, We Will Live || Elena - MT/CA - this and that, together

"Time is too slow for those who wait, too swift for those who fear, too long for those who grieve, too short for those who rejoice, but for those who love, time is eternity."

1 month ago with 881 notes

frivolouscoquetry:

Fragole con panna by meghimeg on Flickr.

frivolouscoquetry:

Fragole con panna by meghimeg on Flickr.

when i was very young, my dad and i would go for walks. most of the time we’d be quiet. looking around and the trees and flowers. when i asked him to hold a piece of ice i found on the side of the road, he didn’t ask me why. when i waddled up to him with a purple weed and told him the flowers are bootiful, he only smiled and agreed. in silence, a small smile and a glance away isn’t bashfulness or trying to fool the grown-ups into thinking you know more than you do. it’s knowing that you are perfectly present, that you’d be missed if you were gone, that you were loved before you even showed up. and that is something to smile to the sun about.

1 month ago with 0 notes

nevver:

Alternate perspectives, Randy Scott Slavin

3.8.14

i have dreams of flowers, forests and lovers
swept up by an ultraviolet ban, i slide my way down its tracks
to an ever-approaching we[eeee!]

let’s face it—
the thing in the center is the very center of things
and there is no utopia outside of this topographic playground
where the breeze flutters grass as gently as a lover’s eyelid across the hillside of my cheek
and fingertips in a slow circular rhythm send my nerves back home

how comforting it is that the snow won’t melt
'neath the warmth of our feet
and citrus fruits can taste so sweet
that cat’s cradle is just a game
that smoke always outlives the flame

(on the second floor
with jellyfish stares
we lay on a torn up carpet and say:
it’s alright, alright, alright)

but let’s face it—
goodbye’s are never easy
if even just to the night
of basenotes, baloons, birdsongs

even when our thoughts get twisted
and the silence is mistaken for congruence
when the magnetic fields pull our attention a part
these limbs are too tangled to stop holding on

with the old moon in the new moon’s arms
the hour is lost to the ether
the record falls off its groove
slowly spinning, itching, dying to keep its pace

and as the sun rises, i am fast asleep
my face buried in the back of a difficult goodbye
to bug-eyed musings and soft voices
whispering, across the sea:
it’s alright, alright, alright

1 month ago with 5 notes

Andy Goldsworthy
onceuponawildflower:

The Powerful Pull of the Mountains by Mark VanDyke Photography on Flickr.

onceuponawildflower:

The Powerful Pull of the Mountains by Mark VanDyke Photography on Flickr.