Season of wishing

Years pass as we grow old
watching the children
running round with an ageless spirit,
we too join in the merry
in the most magical places.
Coming upon the man who sits,
in a place of peace below trees hung
with ten thousand wishes streaming
in the light wind that blows,
and for a moment we gaze
believing in a spirit shining
through the eternity that waits
patiently in the knowing
that all is calm
all is bright
and we shall leave this place
with a bit more light as we pass through,
a memory of magic moments
spent beneath the full moon above
and the spirit that resides within
singing along to the silence of a breeze
across a bay glistening
with the wonder of the season,
we find the peace we had been seeking
in the gift of knowing
there is more than here and now.

A beautiful night spent at Lights In Bloom event at Selby Gardens in Sarasota last night. As we were leaving, we sat a moment beneath some trees in the dark waiting and I gazed up and took several pictures of the trees above my head and on the way home, I looked back over at the scenes and for some reason? there was a white haze on three of the ones taken staring up into the trees. One was a live shot and when I touch the live button it looks completely normal but as it freezes, the white shimmery circle appears. There were no lights up in these trees that would have made the white mist circles. In all 3 images, a white orb in different places…..spirits having flown showing their presence perhaps I like to think ❤

Mood of flight

Stirring the senses
tall drink of skies fill the heart,
sister moon sings sweetly
as ears wait open for the wisdom told.
Stacked thoughts are patient
heralding the moment of bright stars above,
as song fills the memory and carries on
into the soul of another new day.
In a dream I flew amongst angels,
as long ago the souls boarded in
and flew so high we could not see
anything remaining but the snapshots of faces
and the memory of ghosts dancing on Scottish grounds
walking to the place they were beckoned
and I knew her,
the girl with the brightest smile
and I have found this peace
in a place from yesterday
for in the deep throes of sleep I hear
the voices of yesterday say
follow the path to the now
for tomorrow will come
and yesterday is gone
so embrace the breath drawn and love
with a heart that knows no bounds.

I had a strange dream (on the anniversary, which I did not know at the time) of the plane crash in Lockerbee Scotland where we had lost a girl we knew from my high school, and in my dream I was in the airport having forgotten to get my ticket before boarding, I walked back to the gate and found another friend who had a shopping bag from where I work but she didn’t recognize me and I laughed to think I had changed that much. She made me miss my plane chatting and that plane I was supposed to be on crashed. When I woke up in the wee hours of the morning, I popped in to FB and saw a posted article from my hometown paper about found things in the Scotland crash that had survived. One of the only comments on the post was from the girl who delayed me in my dream. Must be full moon season and I’m still grasping for wisdom from that dream.

Blind light landing

In the instance between
a breath and exhalation,
blindness lands before
the light that streams
eager to show the way
we had so easily turned against,
the tips of our toes turn
facing back to the over worn path
expecting a new sight
we squint and strain to reach
the twilight that waits
or for another decision to be had.
Lost and driven deep
we search beneath the stones and moss,
as cold damp steeps our bones
like limp old tea bags dead
on the bottom of the cup,
we stir the leaves searching
for words we are unwilling to speak,
a party set for no one
as the cakes and pretties fall in throes
of another tired day that came
and left us wondering
what happened to the dream.
There was a place once long ago,
remembered from images of a child
and the lights and scent of a holiday
that came and went
like death that speaks its ghostly chant,
we cannot but help to be swept back
into that overflowing pan,
dust and debris litter the floor
as the broom pushes it to and fro,
and the perpetual piece of fuzz
that races for the corner to escape,
in the dying embers of light
we are aware of what sits waiting
and we bend down to remove
the offending piece with a touch of emotion,
another round of memory strikes
with its never-ending match,
firing up the thoughts
like a blazing torch,
and I am there again in a dream
where you are still here.

Tidying the writing “blue” room today I was straightening the shelves and my book collection. Behind a picture there lay a small mass of grey fuzz and it took me back to memories of when my kitty Smokey used to hide in the cubby and sleep till I shooed her out. I keep finding her fuzzies here and there but today finally stopped to meditate on the loss and ask for healing to continue. The tree is surviving the wrath of Khan , I mean Kit Kat and my sister-in-law arrives tonight for the holiday season. Work has resumed to five days a week again for most part and I will be in periodically as time allows. Thank you for your continued support and cheers to a new year filled with good things and amazing moments.
Peace and love,
K