Swaying mantle of silence

We move in and out,

mere breath like wind through open windows

sill waiting to catch a bit of the morning light

while birds of a thousand feathers scatter

as the cat treads stealthily through the grass.

There is always that sense nearby,

the underlying lurking of things unsaid

and moods cast aside with unintentional force,

we become specters of self as feet move

tired in the damp and musty air.

Where has the cool wind gone that I recall,

night of dreams of eagerness through fear

as the words are lost in the shuffle of paper

and we suddenly see we are drowning in our quest,

taking charge before a hundred waiting faces

we close our eyes and slip away to the shadows

wondering where the ideas had come from and gone.

The lighthouse waits to show the way,

penned by a soul I know not well

and I will know her words for I am drawn

into the waves of passing days

and a continent away foreign and unknown,

I will come to know across this space and time

through yellowed pages of a dime-store book

left behind gently used

eager I will learn

what it is, this ghost of form

that called me to hear the wind of yesterday.

Strange dreams came calling last night and today by chance happened into a thrift store and bought a dirt cheap copy of Virginia Woolf’s “To the lighthouse” to read at my leisure. I have not every read any Woolf so looking forward to what I may find within the pages.

 

A nudge from the universe

As I sit glancing at the images

beautiful thoughts filling my mind today

and all of the blessings that have been given.

So far from yesterday yet still so close in heart

I see the magic of spirit around me

of those no longer here.

Gentle games they play with me,

numbers I adore come unexpectedly and I watch,

waiting for more

as I think of a person who wrote so long ago

and a passage that always comes to my mind,

as I turn to the next read on the universal web

I see his words staring at me

almost as if in a taunting smile

that to believe in the goodness around,

keeping the heart light and the spirit strong

I am moving in the right direction

with nudges from the universe.

I laugh then just because

and it feels so very good down within,

to set free the spontaneity of joy

and to feel so very thankful today

and every day,

how these moments let me know that it will be,

the magic will continue to spin around

wrapping me in its sparkling embrace

as I light a candle or two or three

giving light and love to a festive moment,

I am humbled by these gifts

and give thanks.

Ghosts dancing

We move between the words

shimmering images slipping into stories

visualizing ourselves whole again

as we feel each selection

as if it were us.

We are spun like silken threads

woven into each piece of humanity

we are no color discernable

simply apparitions of a form

filtering in as the whisper of the wind

that became one with this dance

feeling the pain of the life we had lost.

We are the dancing of ghosts

heartbeats thundering yet still unheard

it is the passage of time that haunts

the knowing that changes had become

a part of us,

as if it had caught us unaware while we stood

staring at the sun above

never knowing that as we wandered the sentences

we gained body

and could finally be seen once more

at least by the invisible crafter of stories

who must have heard

our midnight cries.

How we danced then in joy,

as we spun through rainbow-colored images

surrounded by kin of the world

and we sang the verse of a thousand worlds

as we moved into each moment,

free in our love of beauty and as we watched

the stars moved past like bullets in the night

as they tore a hole into the sky,

allowing the spirit to join,

to gather us as one,

finally giving us life once more.

Beautiful image by-Steven Fresquez -at Fine Art America

http://fineartamerica.com/profiles/steven-fresquez.html?tab=artwork