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I saw you in the mirror
you were wearing your hair differently
carrying the air differently
You say you want your hair long parted in the middle
Long solidarity- worn for all his women

I actually ended up doing this prompt many posts ago before I even new this prompt existed. The post titled "Land of 1000 Fires" has my favourite line of a poem, so this post has another favourite. I adore the buoyancy these poem lyrics have- I feel floaty when the author says "carrying the air differently." The rhyming lends such a beautiful flow to the piece- flowy like the events the author in describing.

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There is so much strength and courage built up in these lyrics. It reminds me that wearing my heart on my sleeve is not a bad thing. Being genuine when it may not be appreciated is respectable. Revealing your soul to the world is scary but it will undoubtedly "the dead out of the sea, and the darkness from the arts."

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I was at the passport office early in the morning before opening. It was just me and the lovely security guard for a while- but as the morning went on, she had to kindly deal with many angry, hostile, rude, and impatient people. To be expected at a government office. However, for a few brief moments of silence when she did not have anyone to attend to, she stood there, tapping here feet lightly on the linoleum floors to the beat of "Dancing Queen." She found what we all seek- the sunshine amongst the chaos, amongst the anger. The mindfulness to remain unaffected.

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This one is quite simple. I saw this hanging under a gazebo downtown. It's been the most difficult it has ever been to believe this, but there is still good in the world. This reach of this simplistic sign goes far beyond the boundaries of that yellow heart.

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This is my rabbit named Davie. I think he is the most beautiful thing in the world. He has the most stunning coat- pure white, whiter than snow, and he makes sure to keep it so very clean. His ears have been dip dyed in black ink- but only the back of them. He has a small black spot above his tail that you can only see when you spread his fur. But despite how physically lovely he is, the most beautiful thing to me is his unconditional and infinite love. It is so incredible how animals and humans may coexist and the inseparable bond that forms between them. It is so amazing how to entirely different entities with entirely different cognitive abilities can still love and understand each other so deeply. It is so evident that love is the universal language between the creatures of the earth.

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I came across this Haiku and was struck by the line "to live is to kill." Is it really? I believe that this is perhaps what life and humanity has adopted as an inherent trait. Human domination of the earth and its resources is the first thing that comes to mind. We step on anyone and anything that obstructs our path to any sort of gain. The cycle of life itself possesses this inherent quality- when one is born, another dies. So maybe to live is to kill. But to me, living is for creation. It's fro creating art, creating connections, creating little homes throughout the earth.

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I was sitting in a friend's room studying, although I was unable to focus as I was upset about how life had been treating me. I looked over and noticed this tapestry that spanned the entirety of the wall. I noticed the white detailing, swirling on the serpents' bodies with no particular pattern, rhyme, or reason. I noticed the entanglement of their bodies within the large braided pattern, and I could not decide if those tangles were premeditated or not. I have still not reached a conclusion, however I have decided that it doesn't even matter; no matter how twisted up you are in life's spiralling web, when you step back and look at it from a distance, it is so beautiful. It doesn't need to make sense.

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I got this little cat last year at a super hippie bookstore. I've never been a cat person, but I've also not not been a cat person, so it was an out of character purchase on my part. I named her Maya after the name came to me immediately after laying eyes on her. Her carvings filled with swirls and vines and leaves and hibiscus flowers radiate such a divine feminine energy to me. To me, this object is an ode to the very essence of femininity. The burdens that women carry are not light or easy; child bearing, maternal care, and simply a heightened sensitivity to emotion and the world in general. Maya bears many markings of these burdens, but they are not harsh scars; they are beautiful markings symbolized by flowers and vines and mandalas. This is the essence of womanhood to me.

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These are texts I received from my friend who had just gotten back from skiing.
He was without a doubt not trying to be poetic, but those two simple texts possess great sonic qualities and poetic potential. It possesses some alliterations, such as "long lines" and "snow was soft." It is a gentle reminder that poetry is everywhere, especially in the places that you don't mean to look.

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Not to be cliché again with clouds, but it is so captivating how quickly these were moving. Notice how the clouds in the foreground are moving far more rapidly than those in the background. It's as if the ones in the background aren't even moving at all. It reminds me of how each of us is on our own unique journeys. Some of us are farther behind, feeling stagnant, unmotivated, while others are soaring, constantly propelling forward, leaving a blazing trail. Although they are very different paths and journeys, they still exist in the same sky, and neither is inherently more beautiful than the other.

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The golden hour before sunset is always gorgeous, but this day caught me particularly off guard for reasons rather elusive. I walk down East Mall frequently, on a multi-weekly basis, but this day I noticed how empty the world felt. Being on campus is almost like an illusion, a misrepresentation of reality, a small world in itself, allowing concepts of time and space to be lost amongst the concrete. But there are still small glimpses of real life, of universality- in the quick flash of the sun hiding in the clouds, in the glimpse of the snow covered mountains wedged between grey buildings, in the lonely skateboarder dragging his wheels down an empty road.

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I think this is one of my absolute favourite lines of a poem. The imagery it invokes, the sonic qualities to the words, and the rhythm that is produced when reading it is incredibly alluring and inspiring. Such a simple line but packed with so much substance and character.

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I often find myself being absentminded in my own bedroom, taking it all for granted and focusing on its inconveniences and annoyances. One morning though, the light through my blinds came in softly, cream-coloured, and it cast the most beautiful glow over the my bed. It made the tie dye colours of my tapestry stand so much taller with vibrancy, and turned the walls a soft golden colour. It reminded that beauty and blessings are everywhere you look, you just have to be open to seeing it. It made me feel so peaceful and tranquil.

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There's not much to this photo, but there is SO much. I wonder why someone chose those particular shoes, the beat up vans with the exhausted checkered pattern. How did they even get them up there? It looks lonely. And I wonder why the power lines cut the sky in slices like that, why they seemingly run their due course to infinity yet I know they must stop somewhere. I have yet to find that place.

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Tidbits of conversation that I documented whilst snowshoeing at Mt. Seymour. My favourite utterance was "it's been a long time since I've felt the sun." Those words reverberated through each atrium of my heart and it nearly brought me to tears. I could feel each sound so deeply, and the phrase was so innocent and profoundly heartfelt, yet so melancholic. The way it resonated in me was so beautiful, but what is more is its reach to the wider community. Everybody fell silent after hearing this, but it was not an awkward silence, it was a silence of deep understanding.

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Although clouds may be an inherently cliché poetic phenomenon, this cloud's poetry was hiding in itself. From a normal view, this cloud was rather mundane, until I happened to zoom into it when recording a video of it. It's neon rainbow lining bellowed out into the infinite sapphire, expanding more and more rapidly with each zoom.

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I remember when I heard nothing and you fell silent but the silence was loud and the knowing was enough.

I remember your stifled breath was deep and it was vast and it held a cosmos of x’s and galaxies of o’s and I know it was stifled but through a muted haze it told me all those things.

I remember the smell of your hair as it fluttered lightly through the air and it felt like sweetness and summer and cloves, stinging like the flower that embodies unconditional love.

I remember the striations of hot tears that seared through the well-carved lines that sit just to the side of the river that is your eyes.

I remember the slight squeeze of your thumb on my fragile skin and the imprint it left for a split second afterwards.

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Found this sitting next to me in the forest by my house. I had no idea what Fuggles & Warlock was, and to me it sounded like a video game of sorts. It turned out to be the name of a craft brewery. What caught my attention was how it was turned to lay perfectly in my direction and line of sight, and how the branches and pine needles, both the dead and the live ones, parted perfectly for this bottle cap to be seen by me. It reminds me of a bird egg, nestled comfortably and quietly between the soft brush.

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My three moments of delight are...
1. Seeing a singular bird resting on top of a tall lamppost in which he is getting a lovely view of the city
2. Spotting lots of flowers and vegetation that completely covered someone's window of their first floor apartment unit. It was the only unit that had something visible in the window.
3. Seeing the growth of patchy green moss on top of a stone structure in an industrial site.