Night Owl

"The Silent Hunter" by Graham Eaton

 In the darkest spaces of night
there flies a silent hunter
moving unnoticed between
the worlds, seeking the
mystic dreamers

beyond the veil of mystery
carrying spiritual messages
to the shamans who will listen

guardian of the night
seeing the road clearly
soaring past the shadowy
trees of winter's bareness
there lies a route to change

 universal shift with the
stars and moon, use your
internal lantern to lead
the way forward in the
journey to tomorrow

see past the perceived
illusions of indistinctness
trust your intuition to fly
you into the deepest places
of your dreamwork

written for The Sunday Muse
hosted by Carrie -who keeps
our muses entertained

Thank you for visiting

sharing with earthweal

If I Must Go

Courtesy of Pixabay

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My days are numbered
I am an X of a tree
in my final hours, I
contemplate my destiny

If, I must go
may, I become a cradle or crib
a place for a new born to sleep
and dream within my limbs

If, I must go
may, I become a flute or wind-chime
allowing my voice to still be heard
blowing in the breeze

If, I must go
may, I become a flowery birdhouse
a  place for nesting in the spring
allowing me to hear sparrow songs

If, I must go
may, I become a canoe or paddle
traveling lakes and rivers enjoying
the beauty of nature

If, I  must go
may, I become a paperback novel
or a book of poetry filled with words
from the heart, dedicated to the tongues
of falling trees

If, I  must go
may, you be reminded, that without
trees,  life cannot survive, my dying wish
is for you to plant a seed in remembrance
of me.

linking with earthweal
hosted by Sherry - The Tongues of Falling Trees

author's note: The sign of the X on a tree signifies
the tree will be cut down around here.  So many
have their days numbered or no longer stand tall.

When will we learn to take only what is truly needed
and leave the rest to grow creating balance?

November

Where has precious time gone
slipping away with each dawn
days filled with life's mixed songs
nights whispering of past wrongs 

 searching for warm blue skies
sometimes, heaven cries
dreaming in autumn's cold rain
will I ever see you again

 reflective puddles at my feet
how can love be so bittersweet
no, love can't be washed away
even if the clouds remain gray

 sing to me, sweet November rhyme
kiss my lips while, we still have time
tell me that our poetry will survive
as the winds of winter slowly arrive

I know not what tomorrow brings
but, for today, hope still clings

linking with dVerse
hosted by Sarah - writing
No! Vember poetry

Edge of a Dream

 

"Edge of a Dream" by Tom Chambers

through a deserted village street
walking on the edge of a dream
in the wilderness, my heart beats
through a deserted village street
balance hinges on stable feet
in the darkness, tiger eyes gleam
through a deserted village street
walking on the edge of a dream

linking with the The Sunday Muse

Thank you for your visit!

Petal & Thorn

Dreaming under a cherry moon
the color of the night, dark blue
a lonely lady drinks in the stars
stirring her cocktail of Petal and
Thorn bitter vermouth, with notes of
chamomile, cinnamon, rose
and orange peels

Swept away, by the intoxicating
flavor, she composes a poem
spilling her heart on a five inch
paper napkin, the last petal falls

Sealing her words with a kiss
it's him she thinking of, again
pouring a refill - to ease the pain
from the bittersweet thorns....

linking with dVerse
hosted by Lillian - writing from a list
of 13 movies honored with a Golden Raspberry Award, The Razzie

The Final Hymn

Hymn Book

No one knows why the flock flew away
the only chorus heard now is the cooing
of homing pigeons, carrying notes
between the sky and earthly world

once there were songs that lifted the rafters
the old piano could be heard from far away
people came to dance and clap their hands
rejoicing in the harmony of the day

perhaps, too many dreams died and faith
drifted away with each broken heart
the road to love too difficult to travel
the music too painful to hear

light still shines through the stained glass
warming the emptiness felt deep inside
there are hymns of life waiting to be sung
if only the shadows of darkness would cease

perhaps, a broken hallelujah, is better than none 

written for The Sunday Muse 

 

Just A Rollin' Wave

courtesy of Pixabay

In your dark haunting eyes
I saw the storms you tried to hide
I saw where wild passion resides

billowing sails took you away
there was nothing more to say
no words, could make you stay

I was just a rollin' wave
in a deep sea of mystic blue

dreamin' of you, all night through
baby, you know it's true
baby, you know it's true
it was always about you, you, you

the universe bedazzled us
the melody of the sea tremulous
often we drifted anchor-less

on cloudless nights, I search the stars
listening for the song, I call ours
in silence, I wonder how you are

I was just a rollin' wave
in a deep sea of mystic blue

dreamin' of you, all night through
baby, you know it's true
baby, you know it's true
it was always about you, you, you

author's note: I'm feeling blue, here's a song for you!
I may re-arrange it or delete it but, for now I just feel it

 

The Choice

The Choice We Make by Brooke Shaden

Slipping into shadowy darkness
the piper plays in the realms of dreams
running barefoot, all is not as it seems

my mind a wandering labyrinth
a story with no beginning nor end
twists and turns that quickly blend

into the forest of tangled thoughts
in moonlight,  trees quickly shift
a vision forms beyond the dewy mist

before me, three magical doors appear
quietly meditating, on my choice
listening  to my inner voice

the choices we make, the risks we take
sometimes, we will make mistakes
sometimes, there will be heartbreak

door to the left, journey to the past
what can be learned moving backwards
will it propel one in the journey forward

door to the right, glimpse of the future
divulging secrets, dreams of the unknown
unearthing places in fields not yet sown

door to the middle, closet to my heart
here is the mystery and beauty of song
 could it holds the key to where I belong

before me, three magical doors appears
quietly meditating, on my choice
listening for your heavenly voice

the choices we make, the risks we take
there's a magical spell, I can't shake
love slumbers, waiting for daybreak

linking with The Sunday Muse

Thank you for visiting  

Author's note:  This is a wip but, for now it will simply be...