Breaking free

Three days gone
Silence of the day greets me
Set loose from the cord
Airwave break away.
I listened to the world around me,
Trees with lush leaves telling secrets
As the stars stood at attention
Unfolding moments absorbed
At one with all that is.
Oh how simple to let go,
To turn off
To ground myself in the reality
Of natures call,
Answering to the song sung
And the tiny things that move
Unhindered by the larger world,
Daily business set aside
To become.
Sweet sunset greets my eyes
And I smile in salute
With a grand hello for this new day
And a sincere hello to those I’ve missed
When coming home after what seemed so long,
Three days gone
And I am refreshed
Renewed by the beauty
Surrounding me.
My cup is full and overflowing
As grasses blow in a cool damp breeze,
The sun so colorful
A happy color to remind me
Not to forget to stop and gaze on her beauty
And that of all the gentle blissful images
That hold me aloft
In this world.

I took a challenge from a book I have been reading to go “off the grid” for three days. I did not even open my iPad (no FB, no blogging, nothing), just simple paperback reading between moments, and I was amazed to find 264 emails waiting…oh my, such enjoyment to be outside in the woods, connecting with the peace and quiet. Day number four finds me back and energized. Hello my friends, I’ve missed you. K

Thoughts of now

Crisp morning air

like the crunch of a bright apple

sweet to the lips

the taste of a summer sun

captured within the flesh

of the fruit.

laying back to take in the day,

thoughts like dreams

behind closed eyes,

dappled clouds let the rays move

in and out like a welcome inverse shadow

to fall upon the face

spreading warmth

much desired.

slip into photos in the mind

memories of years past

places and faces

and songs that drift like water

foot moves in harmony

with the winds of this second

this dream

this thought alive

in a peaceful mind.

Mistress of illusion

Are we here yet
Wearing masks to hide
The first response,
Any is better than none at all
And I still am feeling bereft of the joy
Of communion.
Are we the masters and mistress of illusion,
When words parry and thrust
Unaware of the spectacle
Created behind the lit screen,
Does the audience watch the stage
Or are they in the lobby
Seeking refreshment.
I act the part written
As I know no other
I seek to be the faun
Or a mirage of illusion,
But looking in the mirror
I stop to peer
At what I see
And there is sadness where once lay joy
And there are questions
Still unanswered
But perchance I delay too long questioning
The mind of a master
Who knows himself
Much better than I.
Words come unencumbered,
I the woman behind the curtain
As if Oz really existed except in the mind
Of a wayward minion,
And though this makes not much sense
Except to the masses of the wondering,
I spill forth
Like a vessel of rich wine,
Pouring out to the dirt
At my feet
Missed but making a colored mud,
Resplendent in its illusion
Of a life once known.

I am thinking art, Shakespeare and the stars sent by a friend of which I hold dear.
Gotta love a fine piece of art and the way it uplifts even the sullen of heart.
I see the moon beyond the window, waxing gibbous or something as such….night air cooling and damp and still I sit pondering this life we live, filled with illusion and the magic of friends….for those listening this cool autumn like night, a word is better than none at all,alas no more shall be spoken. Goodnight.