Poem: Stillness


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In stillness

times when I sat

hushed under ancient pines

back brushed up against wizened skin

small

yet safe

cradled silently

beneath an immobile mammoth

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In stillness

near a whispering brook

whose words spoke sense

when nothing else could

they drifted past

in bubbles of music

floating by

in ripples of spray

to be caught in moments

of calm

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And in stillness

sitting upon the hill

with warmth from above

creatures close by

and sharing the peace

near by voices are small

and my belly is round

while the world is spinning beyond

In stillness

In stillness

It lies

 

 

 

Poem: Bull Pine


I sat beneath the bull pine

When all the other kids were off

Its warm rough skin comforting my city kid back

Looking up through the sun slit glinting

We promised to care for each other

The cups of water tenderly carried

Making sure the roots were fed

And my quiet moments in returnr

The yet unknown parts of me

That longed for this peace

Took drinks of solitude

From the cup offered

By the spirit of the tree

 

 

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Poem : Rings


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Count the rings
The mounting miles curl round
Concentric circles
Piling on top of each other
With splintered sanity

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Burning wings
Flying too close to the sun
Butterfly
All the disguises
Through life

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Crossing
Constantly
From within to face value
Here to there
To nowhere

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It is finally ahead
Years in the making
That place up ahead
Which is now
Filled with peace

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Pick a poignant path
Walk with the next phase of your life
It’s fresh and clear
And will open new horizons

The Window


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My last full day in my home and the small New England area where I’ve been for 20 years broke to drizzly skies and patter of rain out of my bedroom window. It is a window at the head of my bed whose scene wakes me every morning I arise. The seasons turn through that window–from the buzzing, blooming, brilliant days of summer; views of small trees heavy with fruit and painted with warm colors of autumn; or the swirling fury of the blizzard beating at my screen making my yard a winter wonderland; and finally to the tender shoots and leaves of spring time.

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I took my usual walk despite the gentle rain, my lake seeming solemn. My trees appeared to weep thus making me cry. The lake brought me such peace. It’s beauty and secrets: the loons mournful cries, the solitary heron and mallard pair returning each year to greet me. Each with their lessons for me about flying solo and about love. Each sunrise and sunset utterly beautiful, no material gift could match. And the tender quiet that I know I may not find where I am going.

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On the road was a bright red salamander brought out by the dampness. Of course I had to save two today from being squished. It is like a fire dragon and filled me with the hope of sun and a bright future.

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With every new journey, we leave something behind. Through every window, we may see the day ahead, but we also live within the house on the other side. Tomorrow I leave that house and head toward a new one.

It will have new windows and new days for me to embrace.

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Poem: Golden Love


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As dawn quietly seeps through the window

It’s blue light seen behind the vessel-like trees

Peering at me

I raise my arms to the morning sun

In salute to a new day

Praising the earth’s beauty

On my yoga mat

The peaceful island floating in bliss

Branches stretch towards the heavens

And I look there too

Mindful of those who have come before

In the amber of the room

I sit in meditation

Praying for joy

Hoping for healing

Asking for forgiveness

And giving gratitude

My window of blue light

Opens out forever into a world

Of golden love