07 Wednesday Feb 2018
Posted in Poetry
Tags
holding, life, light, love, nature, peace, remembrance, treasure, truth, understanding
what story
left unwritten
haunts the tender hours
the crawl
that makes her bed
beneath my own
what innocence becoming
was the place
I first believed
love would save –
love for us
atoned
what blessing
goes unnoticed
adorned to dusty shelves
wrapped in sleeves of linen
tied in bows
shades –
the same as kisses
warmed beneath the dawn
as winter falls
silent in the snow
. . .
12 Monday Oct 2015
Posted in Poetry
10/12/2015
5:41 AM
in this
little heart
where I have held
all I know of love
the windows reach
around and back again
as night birds sing
amazing grace
above a robins rest
babies sleep
breast to tiny
breast
daybreak glows
a loving hearth
while cedars
bend and moan
to bear the wealth
was never meant
for bone
. . .
23 Sunday Aug 2015
Posted in Poetry
Tags
acceptance, angels, beauty, bessings, bliss, cherokee, conscious consciousness, grace, living, love, nature, peace, sorrow, soul
in the sweet
that is waking
my heart with the dawn
light fills each window
with graces
unknown
to those only sleeping
dreaming of this
dew written soft
to the bible
of home
. . .
11 Tuesday Aug 2015
Posted in a time for telling, Poetry
Most days, as I arrive home, I’m scanning the tree line, hoping to see one of three bunnies that live in my yard. They adore my abundance of clover.
The newest is just a baby. This morning, as I walked out before leaving the house, he emerged from beneath a pine, stretching as if I had disturbed his sleep. It’s the same tree where I saw him last night, as my headlights traced the edge of his ‘one of a kind’ bunny ears. Regardless of my day, I squeal with delight when I see him or one of the others.
They remind me of a truth far deeper than ever I could write.
I am a child of nature. There’s no other place where I feel as whole, as blessed. There are places I know of that seem to be as close to heaven as possible. The air is clearer, the pace a bit slower, and even babies stop their crying.
Every breath is one of divine intention, manifestation of a loving God.
I believe the hardest commandment to keep is the last – Thou shall not covet. I feel the need to confess every time I visit Millie’s port. I’m in total envy of her place in North Carolina. I imagine the cool dirt path beneath my toes, the soft shush of wind pushing bough against limb.
There’s a similar spot not far from me, where I cannot pass without stopping, sloughing off my shoes, and wading into waters surely as clear and cool as they were thousands of years ago.
It is my refuge, my recharger. It is home regardless of where I’m going or how long I’ve been gone.
it is here that I
understand
what was surely the
lesson
set deep in my bones
a voice
I remember
from a far distant place
was to gather me
home
a wanting so right
I could lay
side by side
with the stars
tracing back the journey
the ways we had come
returning of souls
unto one
creator of all
calls my beginning
none
no other the same
as the fate
of a sparrow
a silent recall
to the heart
we were sharing
another
one day
a lighted
cathedral
of cedar and spring
windows
propped up
by the night
here I am nothing
everything true
a melding of shadow
endeared to the light
memory given to name
beloved of heaven
writer of wings
breath I have tasted
as mine
is known in this
stillness
where I am begun
from a song
once the robins
were singing
so sweet
. . .
21 Monday Apr 2014
Posted in a time for telling, Poetry, Storytelling
Tags
bliss, breath, connection, conscious consciousness, destiny, faith, fearless, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, life, love, nature, old maps, passion, peace, poetry, reason, silent knowing, southern, spirit, spirituality, star crossed, stay, truth, understanding, value, wandering, wisdom
The morning unfolded slower than usual. I sat on the porch and watched the feeder, or at least when I wasn’t checking my watch. I needed to go; I couldn’t keep my students waiting. Where are they; don’t they know………
When I could justify no further wait, I rose from the swing – just as a tiny yellow bird arrived to the feeder. I have no idea what kind of bird he is……….and in retrospect, I’m fairly certain he didn’t eat. He merely stopped, raised his head and pushed forward a song which must have been crowded in his little body………. Then he was off, sailing beneath the branches, beyond the fence into the field……….disappearing in a blur of wildflowers.
I smiled, took my last sip of coffee, and closed my eyes……..*thank you* There, my blessing………. If nothing else in this life, this is sufficient. This – payment enough for my trials.
I don’t know about you, but for me, life is filled with these reminders of just how divine the way we’ve come. Tho, surely I’ve made some wrong turns, eventually they brought me to this place. A place of understanding and perspective, reality bound with strings of almost but not quite moments.
Is it faith that convinces me it is as it was meant to be, or something more – a nagging recollection of home?
Maybe it is as simple as timing. Perhaps we have to leave in order to really miss a place; to travel to figure out how beloved the starting point was. Maybe destiny has more to do with our dreams than ever our plans, such that we move on auto-pilot sometimes, held in place by a north star we can hardly see.
Pulled back into alignment by a tiny yellow bird.
. . .
29 Tuesday Oct 2013
Posted in a time for telling, Poetry, Storytelling
Tags
becoming, bliss, breath, connection, death, destiny, dreams, faith, fearless, forgiveness, grace, knowledge, life, love, old maps, passion, peace, poetry, reason, resurrection, sacred intimacy, shared remembrance, spirit, truth, understanding, wandering
for every life
another spent
– lessons
feathered soft
ancient buttons
loosened by the grey
to where
the just beginning
goes –
to start
without a name
from destinies –
a better plan
is made
for where
somewhere
we’ll find again
the window
through the wood
a lantern
glowing golden
welcome home
mysteries we squandered
by the journey
take us back –
a lifetime more
than e’er I’d pass
alone
ribbons lost
their way into
the oldest sycamore
– longing held
with seasons more
to write
of burdens left
upon the lawn
where’er the dream is gone
– dew is falling
shadows
on the night
. . .
12 Sunday Aug 2012
Posted in Poetry, Storytelling
Tags
bliss, connection, dreams, fearless, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, life, old maps, peace, reason, spirit, strength, truth, understanding
been sitting in the shadows
waiting long
the night to fade –
nursing day old coffee
with a shot of lemonade
talking talk with stars
as moonbeams
fell between the boughs
said a prayer or two
(one more amen)
for blessings given now
for warmth that wraps
my longing heart –
words that bare my soul
faith to see (beyond the dark)
another place I go
need not the signs
(or something more) to show me
what is real
leaves are turning –
light is breaking
(ask me how I feel)
deep within this stillness
something moves my joys to tear –
knowing what I know
of who I am
(and none to fear)
for all the morning
promise –
tangled wish of love and lace
for reasons I can’t tell you –
love remembers (me)
this place
the night birds shift
as prisms cast
a lowly face
to light
Starry-eyed Writer, Cautious Philosopher, Hopeful Romantic
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