50% off for a limited time!

Get Core

Theme

Display Mature Content

Suppress AI Content

Get Help and Send Feedback

origamizebra on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/origamizebra/art/Holding-Hands-610244563origamizebra

Deviation Actions

More by origamizebra

origamizebra on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/origamizebra/art/Aztec-Animals-634357659origamizebra

origamizebra on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/origamizebra/art/Trilliums-and-Bluebells-602823677origamizebra

origamizebra on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/origamizebra/art/Aren-t-you-going-to-follow-me-613660011origamizebra

origamizebra on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/origamizebra/art/Green-Constellation-609977235origamizebra

origamizebra on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/origamizebra/art/Origami-Koi-587330264origamizebra

origamizebra on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/origamizebra/art/Marbled-Salamander-588542601origamizebra

origamizebra on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/origamizebra/art/Two-Koi-587777485origamizebra

origamizebra on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/origamizebra/art/Rudolph-the-Red-Nosed-Koi-587779035origamizebra

origamizebra on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/origamizebra/art/Moth-588541392origamizebra

Suggested Deviants

ikazon

Literature

Things they don't tell you.

Things they don’t tell you about losing your grandfather on a Tuesday night: When you wake the next morning, you still need to get out of bed in time for work, you still have to shower, dress yourself, eat breakfast, brush your teeth and hair; and when your mother calls to check in, you have to comfort her because she lost her dad last night; and when you call your grandmother your voice cannot waver lest you upset her, because she lost a man she's known for seventy years and even though she would never hold it against you, you still feel obligated not to cry;

Literature

It's all over the news

It's all over the news, bad news. It comes and goes in heavy waves, and your aunt has cancer. It seems lately that all you do is lose yourself, always seeing graves because it's all over the news. Bad news: this year is still ongoing. It's true it feels unstoppable, and by the way your aunt has cancer— a snake-noose tightening grooves into her neck and throat, giving it its all. Over the news, bad news, you have coffee and chatter moodily— because what else can you do when told your aunt has cancer— Stare silent at the menus, choose the easiest meal to stomach, because it's all over. The news, bad news: your aunt has ca

Literature

Kyoto

Traveling to Japan taught me nothing, except for the fear of missing flights, stranding myself in places where I can't read signs, and taking the wrong escalator off a train platform into a department store. The land did the teaching, rolling hills that became mountains in the blink of an eye, rushing past fast as crowds of salarymen filled every vacant seat in every train car, in every city bus, in every office visible to the naked eye or otherwise— hills that became mountains covered in trees and buildings and both, the earth that came to terms with the creatures living on it that came to terms with the earth. The Kamogawa, a lesson

Emily-Byrd

Literature

Umbrella March

One, two, three, four Hear the coming uproar March! (two, three, four) See the mighty downpour. Weapons out, banners bright Every shape, hue, height; Rain barrage and passing spray Remember this Umbrella Day! And yet! (two, three, four) This is anything but war Hup! (two, three, four) This is earth and sky rapport. Waterfalls from building tops Ripple-watching, puddle-hops Heavy awnings, glowing shops ... But we're all glad when it stops.

Literature

Unclear

The picture is framed in lakeside mists, We're swathed in blankets And chuckling about how We look like Scottish immigrants, And groaning and grinning, Because we aren't morning people. The sun creeps over a sapphire hill And lights the water on fire We sit and sigh Our bare feet tucked up On the cold wooden pier, And I fit exactly beneath your arm. The scene is utterly clear Shining like the morning; I look up into your face, But I don't know what I expected Because that part Is not so clear.

Literature

Lovelight

If love were a sparkler, I could hold it close for a time, Admiring its raining light As its beauty fell away. If love were a firework, I could sit in awe below it As it overwhelmed me With an instant of color and noise. If love were a wildfire, I could feel its heat and watch As it ravaged through my path, Turning my life to ash. But love Is a campfire And a hearth fire - Whispering adventure, Singing softly of home; Merry, comforting, sustained; Giving ruddy light And steady warmth, Long-burning coals and sudden sparks, Ribbons of color and mystic beauty Built with patience and care, Alive as long as it's tenderly fed.

Suggested Collections

Prose and poetry

Literature

She's Not Gone Forever

Her soul's still here Her soul's not gone In the wings of the wind In the first gold of dawn In the joys you share Every break, every tear A frozen rose underfoot In your eyes, dark with soot No flood you pour out No feelings of strife Can extinguish the fire Passion in your life She may hide a while 'Neath the guise of a smile But just give her a taste - With her gifts you'll be graced.

Literature

Like A Leaf Come Away From The Tree

this loss it feels like a leaf come away from the tree which once held it safely securely bound by the promise of an age just one step away from eternity now to be borne away by wind without sound without the promise of a soft landing found

Literature

Watching Children

The old well behind the abandoned train depot was a gathering place for children; I sat and watched them, weekday evenings and weekend mornings, envying their ease of company. Their secret languages were a marvel to me, and I strained to hear as they screeched around mouthfuls of stolen candies, crouched over the gaping chasm into which they hurled the wrappers, sweaters hanging off their small backs like the shrouds of crows. Every so often, one or another would glance suspiciously over a thin shoulder, marking me as an unwelcome intruder, and the lively chatter would reduce to the comforting hum of inside voices used in the open air. The we

poetry

FridgePoetProject on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/fridgepoetproject/art/The-Daily-Magnet-164-557563602FridgePoetProject

Literature

The deluded emphasis on the reduction of pain.

The deluded emphasis, on the reduction of pain. Treating it like a cloth, with a removable stain. Hiding behind the fear, not looking away from it. The throat of your progress, ever so silently slit. To withstand suffering, you stand firmly in place. Harden your fragile mind, look chaos straight in the face. The incoming deluge, you must learn how to swim. The cost of not learning, gives you a future dim. It is not happiness, avoid not the answer. To truly enjoy life, you must be a dancer. Dance around the anguish, go with the flow of life. With perfect movement, there still is pain and strife.

Literature

covered in sand

A trail of sea shells first left behind then treasured sandy souvenirs

Featured in Groups

AnimalsPlantsNature

Holding Hands

origamizebra

Published: May 21, 2016

121 Views

Description

Phlox, my best friend's favorite flower.

Image size

1224x1632px 560.84 KB

Make

Apple

Model

iPhone 4S

Shutter Speed

1/60 second

Aperture

F/2.4

Focal Length

4 mm

ISO Speed

Date Taken

Apr 16, 2016, 6:47:36 PM

Comments0

Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In

DeviantArt - Homepage

DeviantArt Facebook DeviantArt Instagram DeviantArt Twitter

About Contact Core Membership DeviantArt Protect

Developers Advertise Terms of Service Etiquette

Careers Privacy Policy Copyright Policy Help and FAQ

Watch Team and join our Community Group for the latest updates and activities.

Join Community