Mist clings to the clover
And rolls as breath among the gardens.
On sultry summer mornings,
The air is perfumed with the essence of savory herbs and
Delights the senses of the trees.
Heavy air holds the flavor of flowers and
Slips in silence over webs woven between blades of grass in midnight’s darkness.
Hay fields stir, awakened by the morning’s sun warmed breezes and
Another summer day begins.
Star fields swim on summer nights,
As Moon rolls across the sky,
Stirring them in her wake.
At midnight, Mother rests, sleepy from summer sun’s toasting,
While crickets quiet down and trees rest their arms and sleep too.
Gentle night breezes stir leaves in a quiet hush and
Mother Earth sighs and surrenders to another
Summer night in peace.
August, a month of
Heavy air, morning mists and summer’s last hurrah.
Its sultry nights are drenched in humid air and thunder
With light shows between the clouds at midnight and
Rain hissing in the dark on the forest green.
Late summer dawns are still and thick and hang over
Flowers spent and gardens full.
In late August the earth speaks to me in fruits and vegetables,
Hay fields and corn rows, empty fields and full root cellars,
Reminding me that Summer’s end is near.
The stillness of the night air
Hangs heavy outside my window.
Its darkness threatens to come in,
But my reading light keeps it at bay, and
Although the light is bright, drips of silent night
Sneak in around the edges of my window sill
And puddle on the floor by the curtain hem
To remind me of the darkness that lurks just outside
My window
And my heart.
Its movement, stillness.
Its language, silence.
Its heart full.
Its soul empty.
Travel with it.
Its always the same
Yet ever changing,
A changeling in time,
Out of time and
Empty, yet full
With infinite possibilities.
Forever one,
Alone but never lonely.
When I stopped talking to God,
He stopped talking to me.
When I stopped listening to him,
He stopped listening to me.
He is not spiteful,
Just honest.
When I blamed him for my circumstances,
He shed a single tear in eternity and was sad for my choices.
When I was angry with him for a death,
He understood.
When I questioned the reasons for my being,
He sent inaudible words of encouragement into the lonely darkness of my soul, words only I could hear.
When I pulled my hand from his grasp,
He stood back and quietly waited for my return with infinite patience.
And when my errant ways finally did lead me back to him,
He treated me as if I had never left.
I am finally, totally, here and I will never leave you.
You don’t ever have to be lonely or afraid again.
I am here.
Through the years I have come and gone.
Sometimes stayed close, but sometimes stayed away.
At times I was lost to you in this secular world,
Tied up by my thoughts and indifference.
But a change has come, an awakening.
It has happened slowing, in subtle ways and small steps and now,
I am here.
I will hold you while you sleep.
I will witness your dreams and shoo away your nightmares.
I will hold your heart and put its broken pieces back together.
You will never be away from me again.
I am here.
It will be just you and me now, you and me forever.
There is duality but no separation as I have come home to the place I never left.
Back to the heart that has been the same
Throughout all time.
I am here.
I will finally step into the job that was mine
All along.
I will be your protector, your biggest fan, your patient teacher
And, most of all, your greatest love.
I am here.
I am sorry you have suffered, have been abused, unloved and broken.
I have learned that you are defenseless against the world without me, so now,
I am here.
Here with clarity, purpose, vision, emptiness, power and love.
Never to leave you again.
To do so would be impossible because I now see that I am you, I am your heart and soul, your “I Am” with no beginning and no end.
You are my vehicle for experiencing the world, for sensing and knowing the manifested arising from the un-manifested.
You are my beating heart, my body friend and my charge to protect.
You are my very own
human—being.
The music drifts through my soul
Of its own accord as
A sound remembered in feelings.
Melodies bring it back and
Emotions hold it in place.
In the softness of remembering,
His arms still encompass my heart,
His words still hold my soul and
I am swept away once again.
A cascade of feelings,
Triggered by a picture in sound.
Serendipity – an intricately woven web of guidance.
A guidance offered – but unrecognized by the unconscious.
Open your eyes and partake of the details.
Notice the unnoticeable, take in that which is un-takeable.
Acknowledge the hidden gifts that surround you.
Be a willing participant in your story, but
Let the unnoticed notice you.
Let the world share its beauty with you and share yours with it.
Let the story become yours as it was meant to and then,
Step out if it and watch!
It is waiting, now …
Are you willing?
I need to see the moon lit patterns of white and shadow on the grass and hear how they speak to me once more.
The chimes are calling me again from the silence of my soul to look, listen and observe.
I need to hear the hungry owl’s cries in the night, feel its silent wings move swiftly in the darkness,
Too swiftly for its pray, and watch with detachment the
Swift death, natural and inevitable, made a villain only
By my thoughts.
I need to leave my disturbed thoughts and become the stillness in the chaos,
I need to reenter the silent swiftness of the owl’s wings and moon shadows.
For it is the only place to be and
The only place where I have ever existed.
I must never be distracted again.
My being had begun to seep away while I was preoccupied,
Distracted by another, an unnatural evil but one of my own making.
But the owl’s wings are bringing me home now,
My time of regression is done, but it has taken its toll.
My heart is weaker, my thoughts harder to read.
There is never regressing without damage to my soul.
Solitude and stillness, as a getaway to the road back, are coming into view…
The road back leads to the place of reclamation of my soul,
Back to the essence of bliss, to the everlasting light and to
His hand in mine.
heartwordsforpoetry 