Movement of color

I watch the movement
through shades that touch
the deepest part
below the surface
awareness finds
a sense of peace
in letting go
I dive below.
Gem like quality
muddled thoughts into the space
where nothing touches
a sacred place
of a heart that hears
the voice of the universe
in the silence
of a sullen day.
In beauty of pattern
we skip across the horizon,
eyes watch
waiting for the moment
as the day turns to night
and the wind calms
to a sliver of softness felt
on damp brow and mood
lifted with a prayer
to get beyond
this vibration
to soothe the soul
in solitude.

Night and day

Moving freely through morning light,
Feel the moisture hang like a cloak
Moon still visible
Not yet ready to say goodbye
And clouds gather for the party
Shower favors for all.
I carry water to quench the thirst
A cup overflowing with nectar
And the feathers spin faster
The hum breaking the silence
As beaks dip in
Gaining energy to continue
The journey.
The dividing point between,
Night and day plays in my mind
As I stand in the cool air and feel the wind blow
Changes in pressure as the storm knocks
And skies alive in a prism of yellows
Oranges and reds layered
Like the thoughts that still lay quietly
Below the surface of waking.
Sweet days of summer speed by
Warm to cool then back once more
And I hold the stone smoothed by years
Of human energy and emotion
Worn to a polished darkness
And I find a new peace once missing
Falling like the rain
That will kiss this day
With the needed wetness
And the green of life holds out their leaves
Ready to drink from the deep-rooted cup
And the blossoms will dance
With the joy that is.

Her wilderness

There is a fire burning
within her soul
her fields grown long waiting
one spark as embers ignite
the wilderness of her heart
colored in flames of bliss
watching it burn
she smiles
She walks between the dreams
tending to her flock
driving them to safety
with a gentle wave of her hand
as the fire climbs higher
she knows the paths
lays claim to the safety
of the other side
breathing without concern
she is here.
Her eyes move to the skies above
the swirling patterns
the smoke infused like burning sage
cleansing the walls of her
mindful home
clearing space for more dreams
she will tuck away
for tomorrow the rains shall come
and will wash away the ash,
the color swirling down the drain
and she will begin
once again.

Lovely photo found at: