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Sketch of Myself/ Angels

Sketch of Myself

“Angels are among us
even in ‘stones’ they cry out…
listen”

Inspired by Walt Whitman’s poem “Song of Myself”

Miracles

Miracles

I woke this morning
the moon shining through my blinds.
I pulled back the covers
and reached for you.

I stepped out
under a sea filled with stars—
the twilight
sang love songs to my soul.

You took my hand
as a path revealed itself.
The trees bowed their heads—
their leaves
made music
guided by the winds.

I reached a meadow
and I laid myself
down—the dawn
began to paint the sky.

A brush stroke
dipped in pink
then a subtle hue of orange…
I sat wrapped in 
a green blanket~~~
dew drops bathed my skin.

Then, the earth
revolved to meet
the sun—that marble of fire
igniting the ceiling of heaven.

I sat long enough
knowing I never was alone—
the forest creatures
knew this song.

Listening to silence.
I found the sweetest prayer.
No actions necessary—
this sacrament required 
only presence.

I am not certain
how it happened
but, dusk
rose clearing the stage.

The curtain closed
lifting speckles
of galaxies
far beyond reach.

Then a miracle…
a feather
softly landing
in an open 
sea.

You are not ‘out’ there—
you are in the palm of my hand.

You the breath
of my being.

You are a miracle
and, I am one, too.

A Blessed Thanksgiving to one & ALL…
A belated greeting to my friends to the North who have already celebrated THIS day…
AND…to many of you who do NOT have this Holiday on your calendar…
Truly…each and EVERY day is a day of Thanks-Giving!
My heart filled with ‘gratitude’ that you join with me on Mondays & Thursdays in a collective community seeking ONLY love in the world!

Sketch of Myself/Freshest Fruits

Sketch of Myself
The freshest fruits
squeezed ‘justly’
can provide enough succulence
for all to
 taste
and be filled..

Inspired by Walt Whitman’s poem “Song of Myself”

Shadow Sides

Shadow Sides
In the darkness
our shadow sides
‘revealed.’

As we gaze in
acknowledgement,
suddenly ‘we’ are 
transformed.

Illuminated
because we dare to enter
the hid-den depths.

Sketch of Myself/ I can ONLY Imagine

Sketch of Myself
I Can ONLY ‘IMAGINE’ what lies ahead…

Inspired by Walt Whitman’s poem “Song of Myself”

Love Notes

Love Notes

I Love You
like I have loved ‘no’ other.

In ‘all’ others
I am learning—
This is how I came to love you.

It has been years—
traveling through the “seams”
of seasons

—fading colors
—bitter blizzards
     draped in frosted flakes
—bouquets of lily blossoms
—the morning sunrise…
    each one a new painting
    done by the hands of Monet’

I Love you
who I can no longer name.

Perhaps, I will write-on…
trying because my words are 
love notes to you.

Somehow…
I know you read them.
You know from whom they are—

I do not have to splash any
fragrance on the paper…
flowery perfume—

certainly, you would know it 
was not I—

Instead…
my love notes are draped in 
raindrops, bathed in dew,
sprinkled with sands from
the sea…they glisten in
stardust

and, sometimes
words lift
from the paper

flying in formation.

Ink turns to
wings spanning
across the sky
an echo heard—

I love you
    I love you

carry on

At times I think I hear
you laughing.

I close the notebook.

We sit together hand in hand
—the tide rolls in

writing a note in the sand

 

Sketch of Myself/ Spread Yourself

Sketch of Myself
Vision the moment
Spread YOURSELF
and fly to where
you have never dreamed
of going…
Behold the wonder

Inspired by Walt Whitman’s poem “Song of Myself”

Elegy

Elegy

If today
this life of mine
ended with a period….
I trust in run-ons~

Yes, my life has been a 
continuous tale…
peaks and valleys
jagged edges and sandy beaches—

moments of penetrating light
and deep rivers of hid-den darkness.

I have LIVED in it all
and in death (I trust)
I will hold the lessons
from life’s seasons.

Eternal resurrections
flowing into vast
tributaries—
How? In what form?
I am clueless!

Yet, with outstretched 
wings, I will fly on
to new shores

plunging into
lasting tides
transforming with
the ebb and flow
of sacred mystery…

Ah, the sketches of THIS
one solitary Life~~~

The masterpiece
born anew.

Sketch of Myself/ The Stones Sing Out

Sketch of Myself
Listen…
the very stones sing ‘out’
hear the beating of the drum
the whisper of the fife
AND __________!

Let your song play-on
…the very stones
long to hear you ‘rolling.’

Inspired by Walt Whitman’s poem “Song of Myself

A Costume of Changing Colors…

A ‘costume’ of changing colors…

Sketch of Myself/Hanging

Sketch of Myself

Hanging

A simple day—
‘Hanging’
A perfect day to dry—
and be ready for wear!

Inspired by Walt Whitman’s poem “Song of Myself”

Knocking

Knocking

What is it?

What knocks on the center of this breast plate?
On this door?

‘Let me in, let me in!’

Who is this visitor
who raps emphatically—
not with force,
but with a tap
as delicate as a 
feather released from a
bird in flight,
flowing , with a swagger,
to the earth

touching the ground.

Yes, the ground feels, hears,
senses its landing
as does my being

and tucks this soft feather
into itself as if
it were ALWAYS there…

known, yet unknown.

In this hour,
in this pregnant silence,

 a creaking doorway
opens.

Here you are…

Welcome.