Kate Lamberg Center for Natural Healing and Creative Arts~

words/photo~kate lamberg (c) '15 warm night, windows open cool morning, windows closed what aches becomes smooth what is smooth becomes achey home is there, and also here you are sometimes here, and sometimes there we can choose to be silent, and be together as well  as speak when we are apart we can look at our lives as seamless or we can look at our lives as with seams seamless becomes with seams, as what has seams becomes seamless cool air travels through open windows some cool air stays out with windows closed there are times for being overly hot and times for being overly cold no one has ever drowned from gazing at the sun, nor has any one melted by looking at snow today i prefer jazz to zydeco if you ask me tomorrow, i might say that blues truly resonates if you don't like the present channel you are on get up, walk across the room (remember before we had remotes) and change that channel...do not sit down take action on your life and th...

we forgot the trees were turning when we were working on the barn somewhere between the joists and sky-light hammering, we just stopped mindlessly in our tracks and without a moment to waste, we flew clear across the smooth pine floors and out the sliding roughened wood doors for just this: blazing color on high trees lit as if from within the very core of existence radiating bliss- as if for only us: a kiss of pure amber honey words/photo~kate lamberg (c) '15

sky darkens soon after sunrise as the once dry leaves of the oak click a damp, yet deliberate song, speaking in tongues within castanettes- the slippage of sun warning everyone to play fair, choose to walk upon the damper, greener ground-- leaving thoughts that weigh the meditative mind- to usher in a lighter step-- first bird song, an impatient blue jay, robust, jeering his autumn feathered friends- a moment of pure unadulterated silence, and then-- a single wing of a blue jay appears, through picture window, so soon... we begin humming, 'blue jay way' until its incandescent chant fills the brightening room with tinges of blue, transfixing all who view the magnolia's nude arched branches-seem to embrace her own trunk, and then-- reach closer to the isinglass, from where we choose to gaze--sensing a clawing invitation to join--- how breathing bodies become swept up in the woodland dance inside the warm golden room, with tinges of blue- a sun...