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February 26, 2017September 2, 2017

Spring Beckons

The birds tremble in the cold morning air
wings flutter beneath the leafy boughs

the air is shot through with bird song
like tiny meteorites dancing in the sky

reminding me that the warmth of Spring
beckons in tiny increments of beauty

as the small pink flowers of succulents
peek out smiling with miniature faces

the tiniest flowers of heather in bloom
for weeks despite the daunting cold

for each morning the bird song’s chorus
awakens me and gives my spirit wings

Photo Taken From Public Domain Pictures & Digitized by Myself

song-bird

February 15, 2017September 2, 2017

Omnipresence of Life

Her omnipresence is felt in the universe
transcending solar systems unknown
past the galaxy of the milky way
glittering within the aurora borealis

she embraces her duality always complex
orchestrating the life cycle
of a caterpillar from cocoon to butterfly
exquisite of design and beauty

she extends her arms as tree branches
taller than redwoods wider than mighty oaks
contained in the tiniest clover flowers
fragrant as fields of wild roses

she gives birth to both male and female
always with her heart and strength
loving with tender passionate acceptance
the uniqueness of all creation

she laughs in playful abandonment
as dolphins and otters of rivers and oceans
dispersed like a whale song balm
so tempers the opium of fear and hate

she is intertwined in fabrics’ existence
stronger than silk of worm or web of spider
will not be broken or manipulated falsely
without her there would be no life

Written for Jamie Dedes’ Wednesday prompt at https://jamiededes.com/2017/02/15/eve-wild-in-the-night-a-poem-and-your-wednesday-writing-prompt and Image taken from Morgue File and digizted by myself.

lights-creations

February 12, 2017September 2, 2017

I Dream of The Ocean

I dream of the ocean always and I am there
breathing in the depths of salt water
swimming above the coral reefs

I am the sea turtle and the sea turtle me

my journey is long with storms along the way
as I swim gracefully through beds of sea weed
and dine on banquets of algae

I am the sea turtle and the sea turtle me

sea anemones colored pink, green, orange, blue
every tentacle waving every imaginable hue
beauty surrounds me the power of the sea

I am the sea turtle and the sea turtle me

to be driven with determination and tenacity
to give birth thousands of time in a life
if only with you in my dreams

I am you the sea turtle and you are me

This is art I was inspired to create from my totem the sea turtle. I relate in some way to all turtles, for they live in salt water, fresh water and on land but over the course of my life I have found a special affinity to the sea turtle. I may never actually be able to touch one of these glorious creatures but I feel them just the same. Jamie Dedes offered this up as a Wednesday prompt, that of the totem. From a young child I was drawn to them but it was not until I was in mid life that a friend told me it was my totem. If you have a totem and would like to participate in this last Wednesday’s prompt please do. Read more at Jamie’s site at https://jamiededes.com/2017/02/08/under-the-mango-sky-a-poem-and-your-wednesday-writing-prompt.

turtle-ocean

February 8, 2017September 2, 2017

Visages of Winter*

The visages of winter are still
creeping tenaciously
rising and raging
from wherever the cold
chills us to the bone

promises of warmer weather
tried to intercede
as the heather blooms
showing lavender color

but perhaps with hasty budding
the trees quietly trespassed
longing for leafy foliage
for warmth of boughs

for overnight in the darkness
the snow began falling
blanketing in white a
glistening panorama

winter refusing to leave softly
even in the softness of white
seemed to be shouting loudly
i won’t leave without
a fight

Photo Taken by my daughter in Puyallup, Washingon and digitized by myself. This was one of the harder hit during this late Winter storm.

snow-late

February 8, 2017September 2, 2017

Dovetailed

Uncover the striated complexity
Of the ethnically diverse
Like compressed layers
Of sediment

Accumulated by every person
Over the vast expanse
Of time carrying
Us forward

Where there is no playing field
But only discovering
Dovetailed links
One beginning

Do not espouse your perfection
But embrace all hearts
Open all doors
To differences

Skin colors bright as rainbows
Lifestyle only as life
All disabilities
Works of art

To those who hold disease
As angels upholding us
Giving us strength
To carry on

Strength is only in creation
Of those understanding
acceptance as grace
with eyes open

do not eschew sameness of all
but uniqueness of design
remembering beauty
of complex diversity

these are the coalesced wonders
bringing all life together
increments of being
pinpoints of light

This was first published in Jamie Dedes’ Bezine in the January Issue. I am now posting it here. In order to read more of this issue please visit at https://thebezine.com.

This Image Was Taken From The Morgue File & Digitized by Myself.

dovetailed

February 3, 2017September 2, 2017

I Will Be The Scent of Flowers

When I am gone I will be
like a balm to heal
all disease of your body
wounds of your heart
will be calmed

I will be the water from
the run-off of snow
driven over waterfalls
into rivers & oceans below

I will be that silence
that cleanses your spirit
& be the peace of your soul

I will not be the arrows
in a quiver to pierce
unless with pure love
that helps you
soar

I will be the essence of love
& when you breathe in
the scents of flowers
it will be me

I will be the sweetness
of honeysuckle, lilacs, roses
& you will know I loved you

you will remember me always
each time the rain gives life
for I will be in each raindrop
I will be the warmth of sun
a blanket for the sky

I will be the sweet chocolate
you taste & hear as
you break into it with
its’ tempered snap

remember this is all I hope
for you now with a love
to embrace you forever

after I am gone I will BE

Image Taken From Morgue File & Digitized by Myself

i-will-be

I took a prompt from Jamie Dedes’s site about what would you be if you were able to come back in another lifetime. As Jamie says, even if you do not believe in reincarnation, the idea of coming back as something else is intriguing. Please see her post at https://jamiededes.com/2017/02/01/one-lifetime-after-the-other-a-poem-and-your-wednesday-writing-promp. This is dedicated to all of my adult children, each of which, have had many health issues during their adult lives.

January 25, 2017September 2, 2017

Dropping A Red Rose

Staring into the mirror seeking life
watching each dark night
as I pooled soaking
the sheets the bed clothes
I wore

I clung to hope as I saw each one
waiting, watching long hours
as a cataclysmic event
unfolded

standing on the precipice
of scorched earth
stepping around grave stones
stepping over graves
resting places

the essence of them I held within
the essence of me
reaching to touch shadows
dropping a red rose
atop a casket

my body reduced to remnants dry
as a tree now lifeless
brittle as earth in drought
cracked and devoid of water

but my soul though languishing
refused to perish
as hope will not
when secured in
determination

Image Taken From Morgue File & Digitized by Myself

dropping-red-rose

January 25, 2017September 2, 2017

Bitter Salt

The air of life of which I breathe
comes down upon me
as soft green leaves

to beckon me my words my gift
to settle my soul bereft
as bitter salt
doth sift

through each pore each cell
within my being
crying out why
why I see

she was born perfect as
the newest of snow

she was born of my self
born of my soul

but he sought her out one day
came down upon her
has kept her nay

has kept her within each
labored breath
has made of her short life
a life long test

she endures each painful trial
he passes her through
smiling of it all
as flowers do

there is always tomorrow
a new better day
though she knows his eyes
discovers his ways

my words tell me what I should know
she was born perfect
as the purest snow

she was born of my self
born of my soul

though why he chose her
I will never know

File Taken From Morgue File & Digitized by Myself

purest-snow

My oldest daughter was diagnosed at the age of 23yrs with Lupus, an autoimmune disorder for which there is no cure. It took ten years to diagnose and now at the young age of forty she has once again to overcome more new diagnoses of which, all but one, are more than likely due to her Lupus. Lupus is the Latin word for wolf, which was given for a name to this disease, due to some of the ways in which it presents itself when on the skin. I have come to think of this disease as one of predator and one which my daughter has spent a lifetime in battle with. She is strong, positive and always optimistic about each day. One of the angels I always say that walks among us.

January 1, 2017September 2, 2017

Gracious Hearts

I am humbled this past year
by those with helping hands
those with gracious hearts
whose first thought is
of others

those who meet each day’s sun
though hidden behind clouds
as though its’ shine alone
is not gray but silver lining

each moment & thought they have
like pressed leaves & flowers
in the pages of their memory
resilient as though just picked
of others

I am mindful of how they sweep
the path I walk with their grace
imbued of soft colors filling up
the empty space left with love

these others with helping hands
who walk as angels amongst us
with gracious hearts aiding my own
I hold up each moment I breathe
as I think of others

My best to all of you in 2017 and may a New Year bring you in company with the angels amongst us. Thank you for stopping by for I am always glad our paths have crossed. The Image here is Taken From the Morgue File & Digitized by Myself.

one-path

December 17, 2016September 2, 2017

More Than A Gift

The gift arrived in my twelfth year
while I was being taught
the accumulation of others’
knowledge in books

during the course of another day
bright sun rays dancing
off concrete and asphalt
dust devils creating havoc
in the schoolyard

the joy on my face evident
upon seeing the Spinet
a large red bow dressing
its’ glossy maple surface
waiting for me
beckoning me

playing the white and black keys
that struck the harp within
a euphoria like no other
healing hidden pain

she had no idea of what time spent
scrimping pennies had done
to raise hopes in a world
changed forever
the year I was ten

the station wagon had lingered
a massive tangled wreck
on the cement driveway
a constant reminder
that a body cannot
always be fixed

I played the Spinet as though
my life depended on it
the music resonating
louder than my heart

the gift arrived in my twelfth year
cradling my hands
as though warm loving arms
helping me to breathe
to lift a wounded spirit
giving space to heal

This has been posted first on Jamie Dede’s site The Bezine at https://thebezine.com/project-type/the-bezine-vol-3-issue-3-december-15-2016. Please do visit and read more posts on this issue’s topic “The Healing Power of The Arts”.

Image Take From Morgue File & Digitized by Myself

peace-of-music