Soul – Page 3

August 14, 2017

An Infinity of Stars Woven

Within the landscape of time are
the shadows of war residing
casting doubts of fear
over hope filled integrity

for if I could but ease the pain
& erase the memory of horror
that slices through hearts
once laden with joy
I would

but there will always be those
who seek righteousness loaded
with weapons of destruction
their efforts devoid
of compassion

and soldiers who participate
on the battlefields of wars
whether at home or across seas
will carry scars always

and if it were possible within
me as a wordsmith to pen a poem
of salve and healing
I would

so that children may once again play
on peaceful soil under watchful eyes
of mothers and fathers
who can rest assured
of a tomorrow

filled with the spirit of love
& that fireworks will be celebration
& not the deafening voices
of bombs falling

for my soul cannot rest within me
until the vision of the universe
is the essence of peace shining
like an infinity of stars

the threads of woven fabric
like none that has ever been made
containing naught of the shadows of war
but a humanity of peacemakers
the gardeners sowing
seeds for the
future

This is in response to Jamie Dedes’s Wednesday Prompt. Please read more poets responses at https://jamiededes.com/2017/08/09/do-not-make-war-a-poem-and-your-wednesday-writing-prompt. The photo below was taken from the Morgue File and digitally altered by myself.

Field of Peacemakers

July 24, 2017

An Angel Waiting

I lay restlessly, upon the sheets of my bed, now soaked with perspiration. I tried in vain to sleep but drifted in and out of what I came to believe were the realities of my night.

I could see you there as real as though you were standing by my bed. “You are my comfort”, I told you. “You are my angel”. You give me your strength night after long night and even though you fade with the morning light, I know you will come to me again.

The window though closed seemed to be open and the leaves of the tree outside drifted inside. They fell to the floor to accumulate like a soft carpet and fell atop my pillow by my head. Each night these were my realities. I called to you and you came as though no walls could hinder your presence by my bed.

Beacon of darkest night
Portent of life
Guardian of my soul

You could have been a dream but each night you returned when I called. Who is to say what is real.

I quickly took out my watercolors and acrylics to create something to go with this newest post. I had been thinking of this image and so rather than ponder it too much, which I have a tendancy to do, I painted what it was my mind saw.

Dream (2)

May 9, 2017September 2, 2017

Eclipsing Rainbows

There are moments of clarity drenched in a soul’s peace
where everything is an eclipse of brilliant rainbows
and becoming is like being mirrored images in lakes
where coral reefs are arms cradling infinite oceans
whereupon mountain rising islands are pristine views
touched only by Galapagos creatures of uniqueness

entering into a communion devoid of ritualistic cups
and eyesight becomes like those raptors’ rapturous quest
to make the flight over the highest of mountain ranges
like child’s play when there is a vision to fly along
and wings are the freedom of song birds a narrative song
in chorus with insects accompanied by frogs croaking

perceiving the world in a field of flowers engaging in
the mystery of becoming seeds under dark brown earth
and pushing up toward the brilliance of mother sun to
sprout into every conceivable bloom with stamen covered
with the sweetest of nectar drawing hummingbirds for
their respite and insects unknowing a pollination of life

This is in response to Jamie Dedes’s Wednesday Prompt at https://jamiededes.com/2017/05/03/soul-as-incorruptible-as-stone-a-poem-and-your-wednesday-writing-prompt. The photo below was taken from the Morgue file and digitized by myself.

Eclipsing Rainbows

March 23, 2017September 2, 2017

I Dreamt of The Moon

I dreamt that I met you smiling
long before you were born

that I told you in sweet loving
to the moon and back we’ll go

that we held hands briefly soaring
seeking the beauteous moonscape

we traversed stars in the milky way
in meteorite showers of gold we played

we walked along dazzling moon beams
silken threads our carpets in space

too soon you left me in wonderment
life’s cord cut a spiraling empty place

& you sped quickly down to earth
faster even than Halley’s comet

that day I finally saw your birth
I remembered our dance among stars

marveled at so much of me in you
that your hands held stardust imbued

This is in response to Jamie Dede’s Wednesday writing prompt. You can read more at https://jamiededes.com/2017/03/22/if-the-man-in-the-moon-had-a-voice-a-poem-and-your-wednesday-writing-prompt. Perfect timing as my newest great grandchild was born yesterday. Klaudya Charlotte Anne weighed in at 7.7lbs and was 19in long.

This Image Was Taken From Public Domain Pictures and Digitized by Myself

Moon and Back

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.

November 3, 2016September 2, 2017

The Breath of Spirit

I use to pray when asking or wanting
was all I thought there was
when I used the energy of my being
as if kinetic magnetic waves
to bring me absolute truth

when now with years of searching
I find that closing my eyes
to breathe quietly within
the mist begins to clear as
though sun rays warm my spirit

the dew drops melt on blades of grass
to find me walking a deserted shore
where the ocean winds touch my hair
and the watery brine is lifted thus
to coat my skin with salty jewels

where words are not labels or script
but the beauty of butterflies laced
with birdsong and seeded with pearls
that transcend time and space
filling my soul with balm and peace

This has been posted on Jamie Dedes’s site for the Wednesday Prompt. If you would like to join in please visit her at https://musingbymoonlight.com/2016/11/02/breathless-between-language-myth-a-poem-and-therein-is-your-wednesday-writing-prompt

Image Taken From Morgue File & Digitized by Myself

spirit

October 15, 2016September 2, 2017

Eddies Along The Tide

i am reminded of what i know
that living, breathing human beings
are but passing glances in a crowd

we are some of us but onlookers
those eddies along the tide

at times we are in the middle
funneled down in the churning mass

at times we break free in a quest
for our soul’s solace, peaceful rest

i am reminded of what i know
that living, breathing human beings
are but passing glances in a crowd

music soothes me wrapped in its’ notes
talking to my restless muse in repose

night is filled as an ebony blackboard
only ever broken by the swift tide

i listen as the current takes them
much as rapids toward the waterfall

i am reminded of what i know
that living, breathing human beings
are but passing glances in a crowd

i also know that each life i do touch
will change the life i am living

i will emerge from the whirling funnel
though i may be going against the tide

i will embrace each moment of silence
let it surround me with its’ song

i will cherish each life that touches me
even as they vanish with morning sun

i am reminded of what i know
that living, breathing human beings
are passing glances in a crowd

Image Taken From Morgue File & Digitized by Myself

swift-current

June 28, 2016June 28, 2016

PINIONED WINGS

She does not know if she will ever fly
or be like the bird long pinioned
whose wings no longer give her flight
but keeps the world beyond her reach
like raindrops on the window pane

Will she be the lady tied fast with ropes
to the bow of the sailing ship
to briefly raise her upturned arms
and reach beyond the waves
to touch the horizon’s slip

Can she be free of her pinioned wings
and be feathered of color once more
in the childlike quest to reach and dream
will she ever fly to distant shores

Or will she drown in the expanse
of salt licked foam brine
and find no purchase to hold her

Until her wings are pinioned no more
and she spreads her arms again
to once more find her soul can soar
removed of all its’ fetters

She will ride sun rays and moon beams
threaded brilliant with tiny stars
in the sky she can thus be with them
for it will only then be true
she will know she can surely fly

Image Taken From Morgue File & Digitized by Myself

Flight of Bird