The whispered silence


Between those places lies the dream,
the silent emptiness where land meets sky
touches of color on the palette
smoothed to silk
with a flicker of emotion
finding peace.
Whispered silence filled with the breathless idea,
the caverns of yesterday
remembered in pieces
gathered like flowers
waving in the wind.
Grasses move like waves
back and forth bowing gently
paying homage to the being
who parts the strands
with invisible hands.
I come here to this silence
hearing the echoes of the past
rushing through like ghosts
gathering to play their game
of am I here or nothing but a mirage
painted on your heart with the brush strokes
of the falling rain
slipping down below
gathering in puddles
of thought.
Phantom embrace of form and emptiness
beneath skies of falling star dust
covering the wetness with the hope
of another tomorrow to recall
the face,
the eyes that held me with love
and the last reach out to grasp
that bit of you still left
with hands once opened,
remain empty
save for the piece of the green stem plucked
from gardens of weeds
laying trampled below my feet,
I let it fall
and it is lost amongst the many
yet unique for the love
momentarily bestowed
upon the blade
now bent and broken.
He loved me not,
He loved me.

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Silence of sun


Below the desolate sun of high
the silence of the cracking
of thoughts exposed
bled dry and swept away
on the dust of a foreign land.
Who listens to the voices calling
come here child and hear
the stories of days past buried
below the swirling dust
of yesterday,
do we move about
eyes forward to the next prize
the highest acclaim
or just the simple desire
to be loved?
Manifesting the destiny here
where the cracks lay bare
wide open and waiting
for the fall of the rain of memories
to drift in and fill the gaps
of slivered space
left waiting patiently
knowing
it will all come
somewhere below
the shining sun.
Fill these spaces with light
the goodness that slips in
widening the chasm to accept more
filling the emptiness
with a bounty of eternal joy
and swim silently in the depths
of amazing yellow-orange pool
of a reflective vision
of a summer sky.

amazing photography found at : http://www.gettyimages.com/detail/photo/desiccation-cracks-on-alien-landscape-high-res-stock-photography/135623034

Of time and space…a journey


The tiny golden key lay in shadowed dust behind the old stately bed. How long had it been here, who did it belong to and most important, what did it fit?
I searched the closets that lay empty and barren. The smell of ancient days forgotten trapped in webs that hung like lace.
In the back corner a small box lay. I picked it up and dusted off the cover to reveal a lovely pattern etched in the wood of a half-opened door and stars and a crescent moon in the upper corner. I searched and found a hole at the bottom of the box. How odd I thought to put a keyhole underneath. A strange little box in shape, not quite square yet not rectangular. Almost triangular with a few extra corners thrown in. I tried the key and it would not fit. I turned the key the opposite way and it slid in without effort. I was almost afraid at this point, with this ancient little box and it’s forgotten key. What would I find inside? I turned the key and a hissing sound, like air escaping erupted from one of the corners. a small stream of scent, like cedar and oranges and something forgotten drifted to my nose. I remember this scent from when I was a child. I had always connected it to my grandfathers jacket that was never worn. It hung long and dark and I often hid behind it during hide and go seek. I had never been discovered so I found it to be the perfect escape. How that memory returned to me in that moment and I thought I heard his voice from the floors below, although he has been gone for twenty plus years, still….it is his voice beckoning me to open this. I am afraid and I hold the box out away from me and this warming sensation begins to drift up my arms. I notice where the scent escaped there was a small bit of light, almost like a night-light one would use to comfort a small child from the things that go bump in the night. Open it, his voice said from somewhere behind me and I knew it would all be alright. I sat the box upon my lap and began to finish the turn of the key to release the lid. A snap from within, an inner latch opening and a simple music box song began to play. Somewhere in time, the rhapsody of yesterday and pennies came back to me and filled my heart with words that did not need to be spoken. You have returned I thought as tears ran down my dusty cheeks, you have found the door and I, the key….to be continued.

Just a little short story….what do you think I will find in the box? What would you hope the box contains? I leave the journey open to share….please let me know where it goes next in your eyes.

lovely photo found at : http://spraycan2.deviantart.com/art/Open-the-door-space-81700886

Flowers and friends


White petals dance on the wind
I stand beside the loveliness
as a thousand bees dance
for my eyes and senses
the air moved by the humming song
as they flit about petal to petal
and I hold motionless listening
to the orchestra of insects
alive and gathering
to survive.
Nikolai would be proud
as the air became movement in song
a concerto for one
buzz buzz
buzzing here and there
these tiny creatures
flying close to my head
sensing not a flower
perhaps a new tree standing there
in their midst
and they go about their day
as I hold this moment here in mine,
and I smile quietly at this gift
under a summer sky
amongst flowers and friends
feeling as one.

We have a huge bush with delicate white flowers covering it and the sound of humming drew me close to see hundreds of bees just feasting on the nectar….lovely sound and image but I wonder if this is why the hummingbirds have suddenly gone scarce?

A thousand year death


Journey to my vision
Sleep dreams of particles
Gathering like dust at the edge
Gathering momentum to fall
A thousand-year death
Upon my soul.
How you hang like jewels encrusted
The midnight velvet of whispering thoughts
Ghosts of yesterday rise
To haunt the child alive
As flickering voices return
Their darkness of lies slip through
The haze of forgotten memory
The blistering pain
Of an eclipsed sun seen
On eyes closed to the truth
Pried open to bear witness
To this tiny speck
Of star-dust that fell
And became one with the soul
Opened to receive energy given
To become stronger through blindness
Of what is and what shall be.

Photo found on Pixabey

Memory imprint


I see each tiny blossom,
Baby colors blended to form
Simple beauty to behold
And I think each tiny piece that becomes
A larger part of the whole
And how back In Spring I struggled so hard
To let you survive,
To be able to bloom and grow
And to cover you in frost
With ugly woolen blankets
A yard resembling a dirty campsite
Yet below you waited,
Oh so very patiently
And you did not give much,
But you gave all you could
And I see your tiny flowers
And smile remembering
Each year that has passed me by
And each day that comes and goes
You continue to reach
For the warmth of the sun
And fill my soul with wonder
As you blush and change your colors
Lavender to blue to pink
Or many at once
And I call you my tie dye beauty
So blessed each morning to see
Your precious gentle beauty
And I am indeed richer
Because you are here,
Imprinted upon my memory that will follow me
When cold winters wind blows
I will see you and journey back
To the day I stopped
And gave thanks for your gift.

Thoughts on my little bush that struggles through weeds to give me smiles and the joy of the tie dye effect…maybe it was the fish emulsion or the dog pee…not sure, but so love this little flowering lovely.

Cutting words


Emotions move from light to dark
Words you say cut sharp like a knife
And I feel the weight
The venomous hate
And I think to myself
Walk on and away,
To step outside
The merry-go-round of life
A battle of ego
I cannot, will not relate
As this is beyond the fare of peace
And I cannot dwell
In the drama found there.
He came for me
In the depths of dreams
And I walked beside him
In a euphoric state
But the others came
With their hate filled lies
And I felt sad to be there
In this world where forgiveness is forgotten
And the pain is held too tightly
Like grasping the poisonous viper
I let it go
I set it free
And thus have found the well within me
Full to overflowing
The bounty of goodness
Washing over the evil
That I never understood.

Thoughts on why drama thrives on and the people who have forgotten that by forgiving others, they will save themselves and free themselves to find the peace they crave. Just meandering thoughts….thanks for listening my friends.