Mist Of Reflection

Courtesy of Pixabay

 In the morning mist of reflection
waving goodbye to the past year
filled with beauty and imperfections
beneath the willow, wiping a tear

waving goodbye to the past year
glassy lake waters, not yet frozen
beneath the willow, wiping a tear
there is peace here in this moment

glassy lake waters not yet frozen
gray skies and a small flock of geese
there is peace here in this moment
pair of cardinals, sweet poetic relief

gray skies and a small flock of geese
filled with beauty and imperfections
pair of cardinals, sweet poetic relief
in the morning mist of reflection

linking with earthweal

 

Author's Note - Wishing you a Happy New Year! 

Thank you for your support 

I wish you the brightest blessings and love always!

Advent and The Christmas Pageant

Courtesy of Pixabay

It seems so long ago since the child in me attended Sunday school.  Sitting in the quant First Reformed Church.  My mother didn't go to church but,  she felt we should attend.  My aunt taught Sunday school and she certainly had an unruly group of students.  She was helping with the Christmas Pageant and the kids in her class would star in the Christmas Eve Show.  We had a few weeks to practice for this special event.  I was chosen to play Mary and I remember being elated.  My grandmother would sit at her old singer sewing machine patiently sewing my blue tunic and habit.  She told me that blue was a fitting color for me and I guess she was right.

Each week we practiced. It was the weekly comedy show at the First Reformed Church.  The boys designated to be kings were always throwing the gifts around and pushing each other.  The angels talked constantly and never knew their lines.  I was always day dreaming somewhere past the stained glass. Each week it looked like we would never get our act together.  The minister came and talked to us about the importance of Christmas and how the congregation would be depending on us to shine with Christmas light.

The big night arrived and by some miracle everyone did their part.  Towards, the end the lights were dimmed and candles were lit.  I lifted baby Jesus from the manger and presented him to the congregation.  The church  choir broke out  in song.  I don't remember why I  lifted him up or even if I was supposed to but, this memory seems to arise this time of year and it makes me smile. In that small country church surrounded by light, I believed there was something greater out there happening.

The shaman in me has traveled many miles since those days in my spiritual journey. But, I continue to search for light and I choose the frequency of love.

season of advent
memories of a childhood
candles glow with light

 linking with earthweal 

Peace, light and love

Thank you for visiting

The Ledge of Mortality

Photo Prompt - The Sunday Muse

sleeping on the ledge of mortality
my world a feverish delirium
pondering my own reality

I heard you calling my name

 expanding blue light waves
the fluttering of wide wings
mystic moon in half full phase

following your whispering voice

 barefoot,  walking in the valley
an apparition appears in a dream
falling in the mist of autumn's finale

listening to the song of an Angel

 tossing and turning in the night
blue guardian always by my side
offering wisdom and radiant light

 drifting into a higher consciousness

I am uplifted from the insanity of life

 

linking with the The Sunday Muse

Thank you for your visit

 

 

Do Not Weep - I Have Your Back

The Sunday Muse Picture Prompt

 

Do not weep child, my spirit is with you

you often came into the woods to play

on the grounds marked as my territory

 

often sharing your lunch when no food

could be found...berries and bread to

fill hungry bellies

 

your gentle and respectful

nature, a joy to watch from

my vantage point

 

The hunter came and you heard the

the shattering gunshot of my enemy

quickly, running to my side, heaving

your trembling body upon my wound,

spilling blood, soaking your protective apron

your tears falling into my eyes as I inhale

and exhale my last few breaths

 

Your grandmother came and knelt by

my side....taking my giant paw in her hand

she called upon the ancient spirits to lead

me home...over the sky bridge

 

A mournful cry, compassion in my wolfish eyes

grieve not friend, my spirit will always be 

with you ...I will guard your back in darkest times

 

when you see the daisies in the clearing

know that I love you

 

as, for the hunter, the pack will pick up

his scent and have no mercy....for I am

the alpha....

 

linking with The Sunday Muse

Author's note:  I saw this prompt yesterday and thought
I will think about it.  Well, last night this played out in my
dreams.  It was a bit unsettling and I woke with teary eyes.
A story poem, Thank you for visiting