Love sent


Piecing together elements,

Words and sentences from so long ago

Give illusions life to mind

Another place

Another time,

Spent with ink stained hands

Penning letters to be sent

Across seas and oceans deep

To lands unknown,

Yet only dreamed

In a child’s eyes

Letters sent with love.

Take care and God speed

And all good blessings in between

Where your travels sent you,

Young men to wars

On desolate beaches and sandy shores,

Remember those whose ghost remains

A hundred years gone

Where do those names reside now?

On ledgers faded and yellowing pages

And bow tied stacks

Tucked away

In case he comes back,

Yet fragrance lingers

Of rose petals and crumbling sage

Remembrances of passion

And sun filled garden days

Who were you my friend

Whose life was gone

Long before it ever began,

And is she there to see you through

In the light of stars

Dancing again at the ball,

Where she gave you her hand

And love had been all.

Between words


What is it
This emptiness that lies between words
In the spaces filled with something,
The language of breath
And formation of the body movement,
Palpable in its nothingness
Yet so deeply heard.
Reaching for the sky
Locked in the senses
Each one whole
Connected
Silence not broken by the sound
Of words thick with meaning
Underlying and known thoughts
To let it go into the wind,
Slip away beneath the surface
Watching it drown in its self
Rising strong above
Warrior carries the burden
Alone to stand
Undisturbed by the pull
Of a need,
Letting the sorrow go
Of the need to control,
To fix,
To make it all better,
Hands open to the coming
Of love undeniable.

Water and clay


Change brings about the falling
Ice turning to rain sliding away into the dirt,
Muddy clay that sticks to the soul
To the hands that dig for truth
In the passing of a thought
Led silently astray.
Following
The gentle movement of time
As it lays shining like glass
Broken on the pavement
Of just another day
Wrecked by the mind that grows weary
As thought betrays with energy
And a starseed awakens to words on pages
Dust to dust
Filters through the furnace
Sucked in to the pipe
Of eternity.
White coats cold
Fingers tight throbbing
Holding the light
Trying to see
That which will keep safe
Coyote dreams of death
As the scorpion goes forward
The journey known from its being
It’s destiny of destruction
If taunted into the sting
The memory brings.
I see the beauty yet feel apart
From silver drops that fall flat
Smashed to pieces
Caught up on boats made of leaves
And I whisper to the bitter wind
Coming home was all she said.

Beautiful art found at : http://krishay-moehr.artistwebsites.com/index.html

A touch of words


Sweetest words caress
Letters falling off the page
Like rain mist soft and gentle
Soaking through
Parched skin.
Oils of life poured
Drop by drop
Scents of ages,
timeless in memory
Filling the soul with ease.
I whisper aloud
The foreign tongue of yesterday
Born of star dust and moonbeams
Brought to life by thought
And set down upon stone
Etched forever
Touching the soul
Simple history
Gentle like the sweetest caress
Of lavender across shoulders
Drawn in intoxicating
Fevered to love
Becoming one.

Nature confetti


Sprinkled bits of yesterday
colors underfoot
She waits for the bite of cold
landing amongst the leaves
her thoughts like confetti falling down.
Not ready to say goodbye
as the feathers wave farewell in passing
and fading into the dull shades
of another passing day
where have you gone my hummingbird friend?
Vibrant splendor eludes
as the rain falls in haphazard fashion,
the show remains behind the curtain
and it feels as if intermission
has commenced too soon.
Where did you drift to sweet summer,
I grow weary of this season
Just beginning,
As the small vermin gather
Nuts for the winter to come
I sit and wait
Hungry.

image

In the thickest silence


I sat amongst the trees that fell
soft and moving back into the earth
trod upon by faceless feet
the smell of damp and decay
filled my senses.
The light was dimming yet I was not done,
not with this moment
and not with the thoughts that I came to leave behind.
I stood, feeling each ache move through
and I smiled because I could
feel each ache and call it by name
from when the moment happened that
it became a part of me,
a tiny part of the whole that forms
this solid body,
and I blessed each area
beneath that setting sun and turned
slowly in a circle with arms high
praising the space I had found,
the moment when I could let go
and just be one
with the thickness of the silence.
A cracking sound above somewhere,
in the distance a falling branch
unseen
yet heard by ears that knew
this is how it would go
as the tree below under my weight
sunk further into its being
and became one with the dirt
where it had called itself home,
again to return
into the earth.
I leaned down and gathered the dying branch in my hand
as it crumbled into brown red pulp
moist and watched as the tiny bugs moved,
felt the coolness and lifted the mound
inhaling the life
teeming within.
This was the peace I had to find,
the growth and death of
each temporary thing surrounding me,
the part of me that I have become one with,
the element of this moment
here and now.

I had no photo, being techno free in the forest so leave you with my door greeting teacher of peace. Namaste my friends.

The sweetest life


This sweetest life we live
heart shaped world of happy days
the scent of childhood drifting through
the cracks and crevices
of our yesterday driven minds,
peanut butter cookie moments
sweet and smooth
befitting nothing more
than a cold glass of milk.
Thoughts drift back to days gone by
the dairy down the street
the scent of cows in meadows
muching grass to make the white goodness,
and the glass bottles with cardboard caps
sitting in metal cages on the porch
delivered before dawn,
to see how this life is changed
no longer the joy of a door stop delivery
but stores filled with choices
overwhelming to behold
when we just long for the simplicity
of days like we had found
back then.
Aprons and potholders made by tiny hands,
mismatched and ill fitting
but loved none the less
and the plate left cooling
in an autumn window
where the breeze pushed the flavors in
filling the house
with the sense of happiness.
Those days long gone
no children have I to teach,
to bake the sweets that I recall
except for the occasion that arises
when the need to deliver to another
a simple gift to welcome
a thank you or hello,
nice to see you and a thrown together sweet
for you to enjoy
and that maybe you too will remember
those days of your life
when life was simple
and lunch bags carried
a cookie or two,
made with love
by mothers hand.

Sitting at lunch reminiscing of when I was young and how the aroma of home made cookies would drift through the house and how now every variety can be bought off a shelf, but it’s the love built within that really matters, by hand and not machine, time spent to say hey, I care and here, have a cookie or two….or three….with love,
from me.

yummy photo found at: http://www.createdby-diane.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/01/Homemade-NutterButter-Cookies.jpg
and the recipe too. 🙂