Saturday, November 23, 2019

After The Rain - I'll Sing A Refrain

"After the Rain" by Cyril Rolando

It started with a singular tear
soon a river began to flow
after the rain, my head will clear

beyond the ridge sunlight appears
my eyes seek a higher plateau
it started with a singular tear

there's a song in my heart I hold dear
standing on the bridge, casting woes
after the rain, my head will clear

what lies beyond this earthly sphere
there's a place my soul seems to know
it started with a singular tear

perhaps, it is life's storms, I fear
today's, a new day,  I'll take it slow
after the rain, my head will clear

forever;  holding my dreams near
there's a song I knew long ago
it started with a singular tear
after the rain, my head will clear

written for the The Sunday Muse
sharing with Poets United

Peace & Thanksgiving 

Sunday, November 17, 2019

Day Dreaming

riding bareback
there is a trust
in kindred souls

under a blue sky
we take in the view
once this land was
filled with wild spirits

closing our eyes in
the afternoon sun
it's a good time for
a daydream or two

healing our wounds
learning different ways
to travel in life's  journey
walk, trot, canter and gallop

never to be tamed we
stand strong born with
a heart of love & free will

author's note: written for The Sunday Muse

Wednesday, November 13, 2019

Season of Change

Cardinal, Bird, Wildlife, Snow, Winter
courtesy of Pixabay
barren of life
breaking ground for the dead
muffles the tears of snow-angels

Sunday, November 10, 2019

Song of the Frost Moon

Photography by Sarolta Ban

Though a tree no longer stands
amidst it's neighbors, it's roots
still remain forever sturdy

Through the rings of time, the heart
of the great pine beats a melody
for the forest dwellers

Protected by a thin misty veil
animals (deer and boar) gather
listening to the songs of
gusty wind-pipes

November's full frost moon
filters light, to the forest below
 mourning, the loss of warmer days

Fallen leaves now provide
 a place for  bedding down
before winter's chill arrives

Gathered are the spirits of nature
survival sings on ancient drums
take only what you need, for all
life is precious...

written for The Sunday Muse
Thank your for reading!

Thursday, November 7, 2019

Hawk-Eye Perspective

courtesy of wikimedia

There she is beating
her hoop drum
I watch her with my
keen eyes, she appears
normal in many ways
but, her spirit is different
communing with nature and
it's creatures.  I sometimes
dream of  speaking to her
would she converse with
me in my native tongue
of "Hawk" I sit on the highest
tree limb eavesdropping on her
whispered chants. Making mental
notes,  I am honored to be her
guide. I long for  her to stroke my head
caress my  neck. I swoop closer to catch
an ancient melody. My feathers
glisten in the mid-day sun.
Will she notice me?

OH NO, she is looking
What shall I do?
I hold my head high,looking into
her eyes.  Sudden  (panic)
my heart  pounding in my breast,
I feel vulnerable in the sunlight
She stares at me, mesmerized
I spread my wings, hoping she
will gaze upon my natural beauty. 

She smiles wide, her hazel eyes
dance with wonder. Her long
hair blows in a soft breeze.  I want to
fly to her shoulder, travel with
her to places unknown, magical
planes of adventure.

Abruptly, the moment ends
company arrives, damn crows
trying to ruin my day out
I  take to the air, leaving  her
a precious gift,  floating to the
ground a feather to quill her

I shall return to her....

sharing with dVerse
hosted by Bjorn writing from a
different perspective.

I wrote this about the day a hawk came
to visit me and gifted me a feather. I wrote
it from what I perceived to be the hawk's perspective.
I feel the need to honor the hawk as it seems
to be my totem animal spirit.

Monday, November 4, 2019

Mystical Keepers

courtesy of Pixabay
 Beyond the deep  violet veil of night
standing before an ancient gate-keeper
within me a flame begins to ignite
guide me to the sacred fire-keeper
overhead a bald eagle takes flight
between the worlds moves a dream-keeper
drinking  from the mystical river of life

hosted by Kim - writing a quadrille
of 44 words incorporating "Keep"

author's note: This is a tidbit from a dream
May all of your dreams be good ones

Sunday, November 3, 2019

What You Cannot See

 Photography by Oladios
"I can't see the end of me."

There's a place in me
that you cannot see

I guard it protectively
would you view it objectively

heart shaped it holds all that I feel
sometimes it's hard to conceal

eyes are the portals to the soul
lost are pieces that make me whole

 ancient proverb claims a cat has nine lives
I struggle with one trying to survive

all life has a beginning, middle and end
lost are the riddles, too deep to comprehend
  will you remember the love I penned
     will you remember the love I penned 
      will you remember the love I penned

written for The Sunday Muse

Nirvana - Oh, Me