dreams
unfulfilled,
feeling shrill
and unable
to grasp
the complexities
of life’s
myriad trajectories
balance
in mind, not
available, feelings
spinning out of control
so miserably
tears
dried up,
like the desert
prior to a new monsoon,
while the moon
looks on with
gentleness
through
the
gloom, as
light
cascades
into my heart,
and, tears begin
to come forth,
a newness is defined
in terms
not known,
bearing seeds
already sown
Have a blessed Sunday and coming week, everyone.
I flitter
at the moon’s
presence
within my
aboded center
as
nostalgia
runs deep, like a
never-ending crater
while I sleep
and,
dream of
places far from
imagination,
yet all hiding
within
our hearts center
of creation
following
the line in the sand,
I trail behind,
and ask for a plan
and,
in the silence,
a mirror image
remerges
of you and me, glowing
brightly,
just like
the moon nightly
bright, brilliant,
and full of promises
to be given,
as we stop,
and listen
to the breeze
that glistens
heart centered,
beating
strong,
while the body
begins
to break,
from the myriad
turmoil,
cast about
during the time
we’ve been drawn out
from
our misery
and
preoccupation
with all
life’s reasons
looking
for answers,
we search
high and low,
and,
ask everyone
we know
yet,
what
we get back
doesn’t portend
to all
we’ve been told
confusion
sets in,
and all at once
we lose our grin
and,
become grim
though,
as we hold
tight to the
knowing inside
we,
begin
to contemplate….
and,
inside
our heart’s
desire,
we find
the key, and
unlock
the mystery
of the self
that inspires,
and is made of fire
exhaling,
we regain
a loss
never so,
and, give thanks
as
our grin
returns,
we nod
our heads, and
thank
our hearts,
in an
ode
as silently known
beauty
abounds,
here,
there, and,
everywhere
we look, when
our eyes
finally
come into view
and,
notice
the
vastness
before us,
letting go
of the minds
preoccupation,
and
ability to
contemplate
all things, old
and, new
alike
it’s
as common
as the
treasure trove,
buried behind
the alcove
of our
heart’s desire
as
they meet
again,
and again,
in a myriad
of contemplation,
and,
we grin
in
anticipation
of the game
to begin
and, at
last,
when
unearthed,
the gifts keep
giving,
while we sit
in the presence
of all the love
that’s been given
unseen
are the trees,
that live so long
in-between, the myriad
noise and clatter,
of the unsuspecting dream
rooted
in place,
they wait, silently
drawing strength from
the majesty pouring forth,
from the earth’s very core
touched
by the clay beneath,
they reach for the sky,
and listen for our lullaby
to begin
again
as
we coalesce
beside their very best,
and remind ourselves
they are of nature,
and, our makers very best
for,
it is within
our hearts, that lives
the truest test
of
our resilience
to match
their guidance,
alongside a millennia
of previous trauma
which,
though
continues today,
let us please pray
and, give thanks
on this day,
for the beauty
living inside
the trees dismay,
not often
enough conveyed
yet,
often betrayed,
so, let our love
be displayed
In response to the WDYS #93 prompt from Keep it Alive, by Sadje.
locked inside
a container,
of my own making
I struggle to find
the light,
complete absence
thereof,
sets me off with a fright
struggling
to breath,
wondering
if life
is all that it seems
I get quiet,
quiet enough
to hear
the hammering
of my heart,
against
my painful chest
then,
it picks up
speed,
in relation
to the myriad
thoughts
roiling around my head,
faster
than anything
can be said
to have sped
slowing
them down
not possible,
tools escape me,
trapped,
and isolated,
tears well
in my eyes,
and I even,
at that time,
struggle to cry
they
leak instead,
when fullness
overflows
into stations
of another
portended foundation
and,
years later,
I will reflect on
these times,
after learning
has been delivered,
and understanding
is bourgeoning
within my hearts center
holding
these memories
ever so lightly,
abiding in my center
and knowing,
though painful,
these experiences,
were necessary, and
needed,
to live a life as full
as heeded
feelings
running so deep,
it’s as if the being
calling me forth,
is interested
in fractured ways
of living,
splitting me
in two,
as I continue
to learn more
about the entry
to heavens’ door
located
on this earth,
in this moment
present
to the love within
every being, and
living thing
on this
beautiful planet
pulling me towards
them
with a fervor,
impossible
to ignore
we listen,
hear the heartache,
and,
hold the pieces
of being together
with theirs,
in a dance
of past mistakes,
future worries,
and steps one may take
while
we
call them
present
to the gift
in the stillness
of this
moment
a gift, which
requires quietness,
and listening
with all your might
drawing
upon your intention,
and an inner-knowing
that all of life
is already
alight
I am so pleased to announce that my poem, The Brilliance of Life, is now available at MasticadoresUSA. Another big thank you to, Gabriela Marie Milton, and the team at MasticadoresUSA for their support, and for publishing this piece.
The Brilliance of Life
My heart breaks
with every
breath I take,
and though
I’ll keep moving,
there are times when
I just sit still,
and let the emotions
wash over me…
I would be honored if you would go here and read the rest of my poem. Thank you!
I stared
at the screen,
and nothing came
forward,
until
a whisper
of something
quite different
came flying by,
in pure insistence
unannounced
at the time,
was this tiny flicker
of insight,
waiting to be seen
on just
the right night
feeling
first,
is how it works
a stirring,
awaiting
recognition,
as it
makes its way
to the floor outside
our open hearts door
knocking
for entry, realizing
we’re retreating,
it waits,
wonders, and
all the while
saunters,
back and forth
pacing,
and relishing
in the journey
at our hearts very core
sending
messages unheard,
unseen,
yet felt
by those
with the ability
to be free
from constricted sense-
abilities
arising
more,
while numbness
subsides,
resulting in
a most fantastic
grin,
which I adore
ages
come and go,
yet,
wherever
we do travel,
human beings
on this planet
know one thing
for sure
open hearts
have healed
for ages, and
will continue to
far past the time
when
we’ve left this plane
forevermore
I sat down last night to write my diary entry, and, well, nothing came forward. That was, until I opened the document I use to write poetry drafts. Then, this piece came forward. How fun it all is.
Have a beautiful week, everyone.
friends
connected through
pain and pleasure
they are
far from fair-weather
In response to the WDYS #92 prompt from Keep it Alive, by Sadje.
Develop. Inspire. Transform. 