• I did not bring you roses
    When you searched for something rare,
    Instead I brought you daisies
    And hoped you wouldn't care;

    And now I look behind me
    With a wistful little smile—
    You would have taken dandelions
    And loved me all the while.
         "A Flower Is a Flower," by Linda Ori
    Dandelions Would Do
  • "Phosphorescence. Now there's a word to lift your hat to.... To find that phosphorescence, that light within, that's the genius behind poetry."
         By Emily Dickinson

    Firefly, blinking night
    Flashing bright
    Not from fright
    Just for delight.

    In my jar
    You won't get far
    'Til the lid is gone.
    I have to go home
    So you can just roam.
          By Timothy McCoy

    Phosphorescence is the emission of light from a substance exposed to radiation. It persists as an afterglow after the stimulating radiation has been removed. It is persistent luminescence, often described as "glow in the dark." Fireflies, or lightening bugs, use bioluminescence to attract mates or prey. The light in this image is imbued, by me, with an inner light that was not actually present. It is metaphorically "the light within."
  • In Islamic Sufi tradition, the moth to the flame is a metaphor of the seeker on the Sufi path who desires transformation into the Divine Essence or the inner light. In other words, the path is one of self-realization. The parallels to Buddhism and mystical Christianity are evident, but Sufism stresses diving into the flame which may involve being burned during transformation.

    A moth dances with fire and light
    Then it is there...and still
    We dance with fire but never step in.
    A moth is chasing its destiny
    As we are running from ours
    Into the same circles as ever.
         A yogi poem from "Like a Moth to a Flame" by Arun Deva

    The flame is white hot,
    Wait until it's yellow.
    Even cooler than that
    Could burn a fellow.

    I'm not a moth,
    Never was a caterpillar.
    Still I'd rather crawl
    Than fly
    Into the blue of the sky
    With no clue at all,
    If it means changing my skin
    To become something I've never been.

    Like a moth to a flame,
    No thanks just the same!
           By Timothy McCoy
    Moth to the Flame
  • Be still, sad heart, and cease repining;
    Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
    Thy fate is the common fate of all,
    Into each life some rain must fall,
    Some days must be dark and dreary.
         From "The Rainy Day" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

    With a mind filled with rain
    No thought of a drain
    To lessen the pain.

    Bright red in the heart
    So blue from the start
    No place to depart
    Since we've been apart.
          By Timothy McCoy
    Raining in the Heart
  • Yellow flower, grieving flower, pale flower,
    You were burnt by the sun and the hot rain.
    Ripe flower, matured flower, immaculate flower,
    You've nevertheless kept your phenomenal
    beauty sane.
           From "Autumn Flower " by Herbert Logerie
    Urn with Grieving Flower
  • As I watch the poppies gently sway
    I think of childhoods snatched away
    Taken by some unknown hand
    And buried deep in foreign land

    As I watch the poppies stretch out of the mud
    Watered by years of innocent blood
    I think of the fear in all of our souls
    Of lessons unlearned and stories untold.
         From "As I Watched the Poppies," by Eilidh Collins

    Woke up with pain
    On my brain,
    Hope to feign
    Lack of rain.

    Felt my head,
    I'm not dead,
    Born red.

    Only a wounded flower
    Retaining some sun power
    Long past my time,
    Someone struck me from behind.

    The only water is a tear,
    Alone in the lonely garden.
    No gardener here,
    Just the warden
    Without any pardon.
           By Timothy McCoy
    Wounded Flower
  • I felt my feet too tight.
    It was midnight.
    The sun came up,
    I saw the light.
    I crouched down
    And with all my might,
    Took flight.

    Flowers can fly, I heard
    From a now-fellow bird.

    I soon tired of this news.
    I guess it was the blues.
    Perhaps I only needed
    A new pair of shoes.
         By Timothy McCoy
    A Flower Dreams
  • On what should and what art
    Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
    And when thy heart begins to beat
    Why dread hand? and what dread feet?
          From "The Tyger" by William Blake

    Any path is only a path, and there
    is no affront to oneself or to others,
    in dropping it if that is
    what your heart tells you to do.
          From The Teaching of Don Juan by Carlos Castaneda
    Heart on Fire
  • All manner of things shall be well
    When the tongues of flame are infolded
    Into the crowded knot of fire
    And the fire and the rose are one.
          From "Little Gidding" by T. S. Eliot

    The "mystic rose of heaven" is an amalgam of fire and the rose that appears as orange in this image of contemplation relating elements of alchemic philosophy and the spiritual journey.
    Autumn Rose
  • The Shadow involves the "personal unconscious" since it may be the result of the repression of unacceptable elements. The Shadow cannot be completely suppressed and perhaps may even be obligatory. On the level of humankind, the "collective unconscious" includes myths and fairy tales. A "witch's brew" evokes images of the devil or a witch in many cultures. 
    Witch's Brew
  • The labyrinth hid the Minotaur, who was half-man, half-bull. The labyrinth is always present, and we have only to follow the thread of the hero-path to slay the Minotaur within our own heart.
    Labyrinth of the Heart
  • Walking down the street, smoggy-eyed
    Looking at the sky, starry-eyed
    Searching for the place, weary-eyed
    Crying in the night, teary-eyed

    Wonder when I'll find paradise
    Somewhere there's a home sweet and nice
    Wonder if I'll find happiness
    Never give it up now I guess.

    There's no need to search anywhere
    Happiness is here, have your share
    If you know you're loved, be secure
    Paradise is love to be sure

    Don't you know that it's true
    That for me and you
    The world is a ghetto.
           From "The World is a Ghetto" by War (Songwriters: Charles Miller, Harold Brown, Mark Green, Morris Dickerson,      Terry Gray, Thomas Allen, Lee Levitin)
    Searching for Paradise
  • What is pink? a rose is pink
    By a fountain's brink.
    What is red? a poppy's red
    In its barley bed.
    What is blue? the sky is blue
    Where the clouds float thro'.
    What is white? a swan is white
    Sailing in the light.
    What is yellow? pears are yellow,
    Rich and ripe and mellow.
    What is green? the grass is green,
    With small flowers between.
    What is violet? clouds are violet
    In the summer twilight.
    What is orange? Why, an orange,
    Just an orange!
         "Color" by Christina Rossetti
    Aurora Borealis
  • A life won't do you favors
    There's no map for roads to take

    Experience is our only guide
    The future ours to make
    We've all got miles to travel
    But no street signs to be read

    Our successes and our failures
    Ingrained within our hearts

    As we crawl along life's highway
    Right from the very start

    No sense in blaming others
    For our troubles and our woes

    It's the paths that we have chosen
    That's the 'me' which we now show.
           By Jerry Whysman (Whysman's Poems)

    I've had choices
    Since the day that I was born
    There were voices 
    That told me right from wrong
    If I had listened
    No I wouldn't be here today
    Living and dying
    With the choices I made
         From "Choices" by George Jones (Songwriters: Billy Wayne Yates, Michael Curtis)
    The Seeker
Click To Enlarge
Exit Enlarged View
Exit Stack View
Through My Looking Glass
Previous Image
Slide Show
Next Image
Through My Looking Glass
Price Information