See how,
Around
The stream’s
Silvery edge,
Reflected light
Dances on the surface
Of rushing water.
Becoming
The very essence
Of life and motion itself,
Effortlessly tapping
Into timeless truths
That, once absorbed,
Echo right back
At you
More than ever before.
And with a peerless
Reminder
That’s both soothing
And humbling
Of how,
In a single lifetime,
One could never oneself
Accumulate
Such knowing grace,
Gather up such melody,
Nor offer such endless
Nourishment.
Still here
With the chance
Of some
Sweet release though.
And, for so many
Amongst us,
Would that it were so!
To dream
That one day
Within
Such a river might flow.
NEW ARTWORK: ‘Ripples’
Only just available… Now the fourth in a brand new series of high quality limited edition prints all centred around images that have caught my eye when travelling.
This one inspired by photos of ice, glass and water taken last Winter.
All prints signed and numbered in strictly limited editions of only thirteen. Giclee Fine Art reproductions on the finest 290 gsm stock (museum archive quality)
Cost £120 ($155) per print. All A3 in size (29.7 x 42 cms – unmounted and unframed) with free P&P worldwide. Top class studio mounting & framing is also readily available for UK orders.
To enquire about the availability for purchase of any of these limited edition prints, please email either centuria@hotmail.co.uk or feel free to contact Scott direct at scotthastie@hotmail.com
Pain passes,
Whilst true joy
Remains.
And with that certainty
Comes the bittersweet
Melancholy
Of another new dawn.
The re-making of everything,
The coming again of the light.
And so it is,
Each and every day.
Be it in the persistently
Joyful call
Of a lark at daybreak,
Or the lingering odour
From some foraging fox
The night before.
It’s at times like this,
The world grows modest.
Seems to shrink down
And, when savoured
Close to, intensifies
To such singular peaks
Of curious intimacy
That somehow embody
All that matters.
Remember that glorious
Moonlit swim?
Or the time, one pungent
And luminous
Late summers afternoon,
We ran so freely
Across the broad slope
Of the farmer’s
Newly harvested field,
Like wild horses forever.
We claimed those moments
For ourselves, didn’t we?
In a world
That is far from certain,
This is for all lovers
Still to set forth,
Or imagining
They’ve yet to arrive.
This fitful journey
Of ours
No sideshow,
Albeit part
Of an ingenious conceit
That draws us tenderly
Towards the light,
Where chances
Can be so sweet
And every joyous release
Cannot help
But seed another.
So here it is!
And there
It ever was too,
Oh, but we knew it then.
Such sublime mapping,
The code of tomorrow
Already built into
All our yesterdays.
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