(Forrest took these photos yesterday of Crow and me on our family Father’s Day adventure)
Wrapped
Entrapped
Bursting through the surface
And gasping for air
A dolphin above the waters
A woman beneath big sky
Ascending to higher ground
Scattered seeds settled
The wind pauses
Roots begin to grow
Twisted in the unseen vine
Back to ashes
Where we belong
Gin Getz 
I absolutely love the first photo. Good, no great!, job Forrest!
The pictures are great but the verse is something to think on .
Bliss.
Ooh, what evocative photos. The first photo especially is a beautiful enigma – a handsome but anonymous lady on a fine horse in the wilderness. Why is she pausing? What is she thinking? And why is her face masked by shadow? Why the display of reserve when we know that she is brave and creative? Perhaps it’s time to sit up in heroic pose, to let the light wash across sculpted features whilst you stare us in the face. Because just maybe we are more than scattered seeds. Ashes might not be our destiny.
“… more than scattered seeds…”
I used to liken my soul to an old growth tree.
But now they are dying around me in thoes.
Then what shall I be?
A rock is to hard and unmoving.
The river to soft and cold.
The bare earth, the soil in which the seed shall take root and bloom?