Bror Larson

Renaissance Man

There were blasts of thunder
As we learned your canon
You are our poet and tribe
You summed us all up
Whilst you became more
And while you figured out
You helped us pay off debts

You were way into your talk
At The Brewery – still
Wondering where your head
Was at, my poetry like
Drunk slurred speech
To embody, to embody
The winds speak your name

Zubyre Parvez


Bror Larson
Family Series
ShotByNess.
© 2019 RiverHouse Group of Caughdenoy, new YorK, LLC

Vigilance

Those who consider the inessential to be essential
And see the essential as inessential
Don’t reach the essential,
Living in the field of wrong intention

– The Buddha, The Dhammapada


Vigilance
Animals Series
ShotByNess.
© 2019 RiverHouse Group of Caughdenoy, new YorK, LLC

Family Spring

A Prayer in Spring

Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers to-day;
And give us not to think so far away
As the uncertain harvest; keep us here
All simply in the springing of the year.

Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white,
Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night;
And make us happy in the happy bees,
The swarm dilating round the perfect trees.

And make us happy in the darting bird
That suddenly above the bees is heard,
The meteor that thrusts in with needle bill,
And off a blossom in mid air stands still.

For this is love and nothing else is love,
The which it is reserved for God above
To sanctify to what far ends He will,
But which it only needs that we fulfil

Robert Frost


Family Spring
Relationships Series
ShotByNess.
© 2019 RiverHouse Group of Caughdenoy, new YorK, LLC

Alone

From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were—I have not seen
As others saw—I could not bring
My passions from a common spring—
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow—I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone—
And all I lov’d—I lov’d alone—
Then—in my childhood—in the dawn
Of a most stormy life—was drawn
From ev’ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still—
From the torrent, or the fountain—
From the red cliff of the mountain—
From the sun that ’round me roll’d
In its autumn tint of gold—
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass’d me flying by—
From the thunder, and the storm—
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view—

Edgar Allan Poe


Alone
Relationships Series
ShotByNess.
© 2019 RiverHouse Group of Caughdenoy, new YorK, LLC