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In My Dreams by Cicely Robin Laing

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In my dreams…

I watched them play…

Up on the hill top, on a windy day…

There was no sorrow…

There was no loss…

Just a kite to fly, and a ball to toss…

Happy laughter…

The sound of running feet…

Inside this memory there was joy to meet…

The rustle of wind…

And the crack of thunder…

Spoiled my sweet feel of slumber…

Now, awake…

Beneath these layers I lay…

Wishing for the break of day…

To shed the thoughts…

And hide the tears…

Of missing you these many years…

In my dreams…

I get to play…

With you… on a hill top… far away…

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Words and image by Cicely Robin Laing © 2015

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UndercoverCat©2015CRLaing

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I am closer to death than I am to birth…
and still, I don’t know who I am…
During daylight hours I pretend to be me…
but under the covers at night, doubts fill my mind…
Dreams of second guesses and forgotten successes…
mix with flights of fancy, and horrible messes…
I toss and turn, waiting for sleep to save me…
only to find my mind never forgave me…
Deep beneath the tattered tangled blankets…
I try to find me, the one I haven’t met yet…
But every event, every thought, every action…
changes me from one moment to the next…
Each a tiny death, becomes a birth, a resurrection…
Then morning comes, and I am more tired than awake…
and still, I am who I am… rediscovered…
at least for one more day…
Is there any other way?

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Words and image by Cicely Robin Laing ©2015

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Gobble Gobble ©2015 CicelyRLaing

 

Happy Thanksgiving!

I am…
being thankful for life…
for still being alive…
for being able to still kick a bit…
for still being able to love my friends…
to hug and kiss my family…
I’m thankful for knowing…
that even when overwhelmed…
I have a hope of digging out…
hope that tomorrow may have less pain…
hope that today I will remember…
all the beauty of yesterday…
the potential of the future…
hope to be able to see joy…
and to give joy…
I am thankful…
for love…
thankful…
for life…
I am
thankful…
I am…

 

May your day be filled with love and thanks…


Words and image by Cicely Robin Laing

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CicelyRobinLaing©2014

 

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I cut myself on a clove of garlic today…

That’s just how weird and arbitrary life can be sometimes…

It stung with the garlic oil…

The cat thought the whole thing was odd…

But the chili it went into was good…

Now, I sit here with a strange hole in the palm of my hand…

One no band-aid will cover…

And I contemplate…

Would a garlic puncture be a mortal wound to a vampire…?

Life is just weird sometimes…

Or maybe it’s just me…

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A true life story from my kitchen…

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Image and words… by Cicely Robin Laing © 2014

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CicelyRobinLaing©2014

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I am Picasso’s muse.
It’s not that I inspired him, nor was I his model. I never even met him…
But when I look in the mirror, I say to myself, “I am what Picasso made.”
I am playful, fractured, blue…
and then…
I reconsider…
Maybe I am more like Miró… or Matisse…
I muse on this a little more as I look at the lines of my face…
I know that no one could have created a visage such as mine…
Without a great deal of artistic “taste”…
and I still think Picasso would have been amused….
by the lines of my face…

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A bit of improv writing… nonsense at its best… and worst…

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Image and Words by Cicely Robin Laing © 2014

 

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CicelyRobinLaing©2014

 

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My name is Wind Walker.
I live in the clouds…
I lay my head on pillows of dreams…
And I eat wishes for brunch…

On days that the wind is kind…
I get to walk from cloud to cloud…
I don’t fly…
I don’t have wings…

I walk…
Remember my name…
I walk on moving air…
The Earth’s breath is my highway.

Sometimes birds visit me…
I like birds…
They have lots of stories…
About trees, and lakes, and dirt, and worms…

I don’t know what those things are…
But they sound wonderful…
Sometimes…
When the clouds drop really low…

I can almost see the ground…
When the sun rises…
and I might get a peek…
at a mountain top.

Then the wind rushes in…
and carries me away…
But that’s okay…
I have other things to do…

I dance in lightning storms…
and bath in rain and snow…
I stir up tornados…
and I make pictures that dissolve for those below…

I used to keep a collection…
of hail stones and Autumn leaves…
And shiny discs to toss around…
perhaps you’ve seen one of these?

But most treasured possession…
was a feather given to me…
by a passing eagle…
who took pity and gifted it to me.

But clouds are not good at holding things…
and the wind is a selfish mistress…
My bits of things were scattered…
but it’s only the feather I miss.

My name is Wind Walker…
and I live in the clouds…
I can not fly…
But the Earth’s breath is my highway.

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A belated and rather airy improv tale for “Tale Spin Tuesday”…

I owe this one for September 30th as part of last month’s project…

October’s project is brewing and will boil over sometime in the coming week.

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Image and words by Cicely Robin Laing © 2014

 

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CicelyRobinLaing©2014.

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I spent the day asleep with my eyes wide open…

My mind bent over like an aged, brick layer’s back…

I did the little things that say, “I can make it through my day.”…

I got dressed in blue jeans…

I ate burnt toast…

I went to work cause that’s what I do…

And I made my way back home… I had no place else to go…

I did all the expected things…

I did what should prove I am alive and functional…

But the truth is… my engine is running on fumes and I am about to sputter to a sudden stop…

I’m still moving forward from the momentum of morning…

and I have forgotten what breaks are for…

Everything is moving forward…

but I have no clue where I am going…

I am asleep… with my eyes wide open…

How did I get to this nowhere place…?

How did I reach this exhausted space…?

I haven’t a clue…

I woke up… I took a step… I took another step… just like I had so many other days…

and eventually I assumed I was awake…

But apparently I was not…

Here I have spent my whole day dreaming…

of every possible mundane thing I could do with my life…

and… I did them… with my eyes open…

but I was not awake…

and now…

it is time for bed…

and all I can think of…

is to dream…

of sleep. …

Where I might finally figure out…

what it means…

to live…

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Life is full of dreams… sleep has very little to do with it… but lack of sleep can leave you dreamless…

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Day 23 of my September project… this is for “Tale Spin Tuesday” … which spun so badly that it is now Thursday…

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September’s different themes for each day of the week:
“Macro Monday”
“Tale Spin Tuesday”
“Whatever Wednesday”
“Thoughtful Thursday”
“Family Friday”
“Caturday Saturday”
& “Seriously Silly Sunday”

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Image and words by Cicely Robin Laing © 2014

 

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