Her Seashell (monochrome) 

She sat there holding a seashell, a woven basket above her head, her hair flowing, one of the tresses tickling that little spot behind her ear,

Her eyelids gently closed, she sits alone, in quiet contemplation, journeying through the Universe that’s inside of her, solitude echoing off the walls around; 

Each day, she would sit under the ancient oak in the meadow, listening to her seashell; sometimes she could hear the wind gently roaring from the ocean,

Leaves drifted down, and little bits of fruit began to fall into her basket, and as the days passed by, she noticed that both her spirit and the basket were fuller, sometimes to the brim; 

At sunrise, and on nights when the moon was shining, she would bathe in its light; and such was this blessed feeling, she wanted to share these gifts with the world- making it a little more beautiful, nourishing the spirit, adding a touch of magic to the surroundings; 

And she longed to share this life’s journey with her true love, once a girl, now a woman . . she has held her heart all along, keeping it safe and tucked away next to the bed of flowers, which she walks amongst each evening, on the way to the great oak; 

To all around her, she appeared as if she was frozen in the stones of time, though there was a river steadily flowing forth from her, hence the peaceful little smile that often graced her lips. 

Lady with a Seashell, monochrome, Bellagio Gardens, Summer 2017 © Lisa Ellen Goodman Photography


draft for 🍃Nature’s Secrets🍃

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Tree of Life

The Universe is vast . . 

we wander through life’s deserts and valleys, the sands of time immeasurable . . 

We cannot tell if things are closer or farther than they appear . . 

and within each grain of sand, there is a Universe. 

Wandering the sand dunes in search of the Tree of Life . . Death Valley National Park, California © Lisa Ellen Goodman Photography

Sweet Yearning

Lay me down on a bed of wildflowers, and do with me what you’ve been aching to . . all this time 💞

A bed of flowers in Spring Valley, taken on a Spring day 🌸 © Lisa Ellen Goodman Photography via prisma app

Beside The Pillar of Truth

In times of ancient, you left your love letter to me upon the shore, an infinite circle, made of sand and stone; drawing me back to you in this lifetime. 

Reynisfjara Black Sand Beach, Vik, Iceland © Lisa Ellen Goodman Photography

Hourglass: In the End

When that last grain of silt
slides down the concave of time,
Where will my love be..
will your hand rest in mine?

While watching From Time to Time (the film was adapted from The Chimneys of Green Knowe, a children’s book by Lucy M. Boston), I heard these words spoken by Granny Oldknow, and they struck a chord in my heart. I went on pixteller, & put these words to an image of two hands interwoven, which I came across on creative commons. Photo by Gustavo Medde, flickr.com/morgacito