Solitude in flight

Feathers carved in natures stone
curved and fluid we fly in dreams
far and away into the stars
dotting the sky like miracles born.
Tagua found hanging on white walls
I touch each color and feel
the caring imbedded in each piece like love.
Lightness of being I find
the slipping of images floating by
I cannot touch nor do I dare,
for to mar the edges of beauty
would wound the heart too much,
and I watch the peaceful master create
over and over again the scenes
like dreams rising to fruition,
from nothing something comes.
I am eager, I feel the sensations
of something bigger coming
and I smile while in my dream I fly,
to touch down on a distant planet
I curl into a ball to sleep
and thus am created in the mind
of a hand that etched
my soul filled presence.

Learning more about vegetable ivory (Tagua nuts) that are carved and made into jewelry too. We sell the necklaces at work but this morning I looked more into what they are. A beautiful image found on the internet….but I’d love to have that piece. A chimera carved into the nut 🙂

Textured

Our lives
textured by our moments we share
layered in beauty
we hold out our empty hands
knowing more will find us
heaped to overflowing,
shared with all in need.
Dreams of abundance filter through,
giving rise to our greatest wishes
blowing on the seeds
drifting on the wayward wind,
settling in the depths
as barren fields wait patiently
for our fertile thoughts to grow.
What matters as we surface
in cracks and fissures we find it all
dreaming in aimless moments,
textured in our magnificence
we are the living art
of the creator.

Bowl of memory

Running fingers on smooth edges
dipping in to the emptiness to find
the dust of faded thoughts and memories
lingering just out of reach.
Smooth blue skies call to the waking soul,
walking in unison to the mornings first breath
as dew hangs on air
cool breeze ruffles cotton playfully,
slipping its fingers whisper-like in
to touch the skin
easing the fire.
Round in circles like birds in flight
floating on clouds they slip on air
and I rehearse the mantra of a new day
from pages studied with a feverish need
dipping into the bowl of memories
to wash clean.
Empty and spotless
the inhale and exhale of yesterday,
letting it slip from existence to new form,
invisible waves gather and I watch
through wake and sleep as the tides rush out
taking away I find the peace,
truth and trust
my release.