Searching the fire

In the beginning,
we rise to touch the flaming sun
high beyond reach
we believe in the mastery
of the thoughts we hold as truth,
we strive to become one
with the mystery that is
this fragile life.
Searching the flames of need ,
we lift ourselves up
carefully balancing the want
with a desire to belong ,
through communion with the spirit
we dance in the light
captured in memory we hold fast,
seeing more flickers in the distance
we move forward to meet like minds
and together share in the absolute
of a knowing
love is all there ever will be.
Searching the fire
through glowing ash dying
we poke about and release
the paper dreams to flight,
we are as we become
our truest selves
as the prophecy was written.

Captured by illusion

We move in random theory
standing in the midst of a chaos
of sleepless nights beneath sullen moons
that stare into the abyss of dreams.
I had thought of living and dying,
being in the place of illusion
called upon in the forefront of a hasty life,
rushing through to reach the split
between stages of paths united,
I bristled where I should have found peace
in battering words set apart,
I did not ask for the foretold gift
of carrying the weight she gave
yet called upon the deeper well of light
I rose and moved away untouched.
Who dares to come to the sanctuary unasked,
an ​intruder of the mayhem brought forth,
I slipped into the quiet place
where dreams lay waiting to be found
and touched the clouds in secrecy,
those orange hued beauties rise
as the gentle sun sets down to ripple
the stream of consciousness forgotten.
How is it that we move away
from the comfort of a shallow pool,
dare to dive deep into the darkness
knowing we will surely rise again,
the lingering call of those unseen reach in
and in pulling me forth I wake to find
an escape back into the yesteryear
where the drama cannot find
the path I’ve tread upon,
and the silver light of a dying moon speaks
as I lie awake and wonder
what tomorrow will truly bring.

I know, I know…it’s been awhile, too long really but I have made great strides in utilizing my time in writing a very long story (67,000+ words and counting so far) that I hope to publish in this coming year. If you’re still reading, thank you and will be popping in sporadically as I can until work slows down (Still loving the job and the people it brings into your life) and the story gets finished. Peace and blessings and I’m still breathing, indeed. ❤ K

Edges of paths

somewhere on the edge
a precipice of undoing
built of memory and dreams,
challenges conspire in seconds
to tear into the minutes
of an expectant day.
The paths of most and least resistence
lay like stones beneath the will
to climb and traverse the promise
of an expectant beat that hums
like a solitary wind gathering
the buttermilk clouds heavy
we lift our soul to higher ground
escaping into the cosmos
to stare at the dreams in their eyes,
thread the needle to sew
a storybook of pleasure,
always waiting to be told.
Slip into the ether
inhaling the fragrant mist
of a future ripe
with sweet gifts in abundance
to open hands and a grateful heart.