Perched on the edge of a Song

Courtesy the Sunday Muse

 

 All that we see or seem is but a dream
within a dream ~ Edgar Allan Poe

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Perched on the edge of creativity
would I be the songs of the crows
pounding the ebony and ivory keys
for what never was, for all the heartache
and scars of lost dreams

would you listen to my grieving sonata
a journey of constantly moving emotions

it's hard to soar when your wings are torn
flying too close to the thistles and rose thorns

music of life, love and loss pass before my
bloodshot,  teary eyes

Peck
  PECK
    PECKING apart pieces of my soul.....

Or...

would I be the songs of the mourning doves
softly breaking this spell of darkness
on wings of compassion

 coo
  coo
    cooing

a renewed song of love and life....resting
on the bench of contentment

Perhaps..

I'd be the song of a  free-bird soaring in the air of spontaneous energy...
full on,  rhapsody of contrasting mood and tone, UN-tethered
a composition filled with lyrical passion

 

linking with The Sunday Muse
hosted by Carrie

sharing with earthweal
open link forum hosted by Brendan

Author's note: Thank you for taking the time to read the wanderings of my mind.

Frozen Piece of Time

into winter’s wonderland we are drawn
there is beauty in the new dawn

poetry scattered in morning frost
internal/external rhymes are lost

barren trees blanketed with ice
a crow searches for field mice

snowy owl swoops across the land
mystical sky low-laying clouds expand

written for dVerse
writing a 44 word quadrille - incorporating ice

author's note:  I was driving through the mountains
and near the peak the trees were covered with ice

River of Unknowns

 

courtesy of Pixabay

Once upon a shamanic dream,
I saw and traveled a sky river
it took me to a sanctuary of splendor
luscious greenery with hints of pines
cherry trees and roses in full bloom
birdsong filled the air,  bees and butterflies
waltzed in the magic of wildflowers...

I thought how had I arrived in this paradise
and in my heart the sky river meant beauty

Now, when I hear the words sky river, I think
atmospheric cloudburst with torrential rains
opening its mouth, flooding the most vulnerable
regions, battering the landscape with mudslides
streets filling with water, people evacuating
their homes with precious few belongings
in search of a sanctuary...

 I wonder if the sky river of my dreams
still exists or has the portal of time shifted
with prevailing winds.. . vanishing
in the eye of the storms

how do we sail or paddle these rivers
of increasing intensity...how do we find
our lost way home to paradise in a world
of layered unknowns..

do we build a community arc
to ride into the future...
pray for a miracle to see us through

written for earthweal
hosted by Brendan
write a poem inspired by the work of Jorie Graham

author's note:  This is based in part on
one of my dreams. I have been watching
the news regarding the atmospheric storms
that have been hammering the west coast...

Patchwork Blues

Painting by Richard Burlet “Woman in Blue”

 

 Life is a patchwork of poetry
filled with verses and symmetry
sewn with a feather light stitch
hues of blue moonlight: rich

pieces of me and pieces of you
I've got the patchwork blues
dreaming of you under bamboo

Fabrics of the lives we live
along the way we learn to give
loves a quilt of vibrant color
don't let it be torn asunder

pieces of me and pieces of you
I've got the patchwork blues
dreaming of you under bamboo

How to mend a misshapen heart
don't want the seams to fall apart
precious blocks of  boundless time
creating our own special design

pieces of me and pieces of you
I've got the patchwork blues
dreaming of you under bamboo

Scraps of our lives quilted together
warming us no matter the weather
I know I should let these feelings go
but, our story still needs time to grow

pieces of me and pieces of you
I've got the patchwork blues
dreaming of you under bamboo

linking with the The Sunday Muse

Songs of Poetry

Courtesy of Pixabay

 

You need a keen ear to hear 
near flowers
it was the season of water lilies 
tender

to understand the earth
let us celebrate, glorious moonlight
watching puffy clouds drift by
Shine On

my shoes are worn from the journey
there is a place beyond my drum
in your dark haunting eyes
what is that shrill coming from the trees

 

linking with dVerse

writing found poetry hosted by Laura

The  task at hand is to compile a poem
using the first line of your first
poem for each month of 2022 

I decided to use the photo from
my first poem of Jan. 2022

How Far

Courtesy of Pixabay

How far back in time must
one travel to rediscover one's
inner self

Retracing the tracks left behind
from ancestors of another time
who honored the sun and moon
with song and dance

How far,  must one wander
through the dense forests
to find the wilderness of the mind
resting in a field of lavender and
violets brings clarity

Following the path of the earliest
dreamers, listening to the drumming
of the heart, planters of knowledge
who respected the earth

How many moons must pass
until we channel the energy
to uproot what has been seeded
perceptions, ideals and habits
that no longer serve for the greater
well being

Close your eyes, follow the drum's song
sit on the stream of thought, drink
in the cup of healing waters
revitalize your mind, body and soul

How many times must a willow bend
until it snaps from the weight of her tears

linking with earthweal

Hosted by Sherry - exploring decolonizing our minds

Singing Bowl

courtesy of The Sunday Muse

 Leave all your debris at the door
entering within this sacred place
walk barefoot on the wooden floor
allow your breath to set the pace

slowly inhaling and exhaling
there is a song inside your soul
permit the tone to be relaxing
listen to the crystal singing bowls

opening doorways of your mind
let the rhythm flow into your heart
leave all earthly negativity behind
transmitting sound is a work of art

drink in the moon and stars above
see with eyes of twinkling clarity
singing in harmony, songs of love
discovering a place of serenity

linking with The Sunday Muse

sharing with earthweal 

author's note:  I am exploring the healing benefits of sound
primary crystal bowl meditation

Waning Moon

Courtesy of Pixabay

Forgive me for not seeing
some stars are too bright
the moon, Jupiter, Venus and Mars
were the places we called ours

was it desire that burned in our souls
redemption found in our loving hearts
word-smithing one ladder rung at a time
ascending into the clouds heavenward

speaking in a tongue of understanding
spiraling in a cosmic universe of unknowns
they called us fools with unrealistic dreams
perhaps, we were merely survivalists

romanticism across the spirited sky
dreamers in search of fulfillment
love can sometimes make you cry

forgive me for not seeing
some stars are too bright
the moon, Jupiter, Venus and Mars
were the places we called ours

I wanted you see beyond the surface
the depth of my core was yours to explore
wishing  to see beyond the field of view
navigating the star wheel, searching for you

singing ballads of the waning moon
variable stars, changing through space
creating a constellation of possibility
love shining through blessed eternity

romanticism across the spirited sky
dreamers in search of fulfillment
love can sometimes make you cry

 

author's note: a poem, a song or just the wanderings
of my mind.  A work in progress….

linking with dVerse

Open link night