A gentle tone

He plays to my heart

gifts that send peace rippling through

in waves of quiet splendor

gentle tones vibrate to reach the soul,

a calming place.

Slow and moving to the hum

the resonance of sound fills the air

and I smile in wonder that such simplicity

can garner so much good,

how can we not lose ourselves

in moments of quiet contemplation

as the sound rises filling the blue room,

the fan circulating the air above

as my head drifts into a scene of silence

broken only by the hum

of a precious gifted metal bowl

in blue to match the hue

of this life of beauty,

I give thanks for the honor of being here

and for the song given

by the deepest heart of the man I adore.

My birthday gift from my husband, a Tibetan singing bowl. He saw me looking at them a few weeks back and I told him I could not justify paying that price for one, it’s a beautiful shade of blue, with a heart connection to the hum and then nestled within, a carved stone heart, a sunstone (a power stone for bringing joy and other positive feelings into your life. Awaken cosmic consciousness and help you to be open to blessing others with your personal abilities and gifts. They release stress and aid mental clarity), ha! Does that man know me well, or what? I have got it to sing perfectly, feeling the vibration move through and it makes me smile and feel so very good. Similar looking bowl to mine here:

blue_singing_bowl1.jpg

Must say, one of my best gifts ever ❤ thank you my love ❤

Holding on…

Listening to
the stranglehold of history
the minutiae of years
can’t help wasting it…
the years to never be regained…
but ah the escapism of a circus performer
hanging on to the tight rope
’cause in the worth is the prize….
We sit and reminisce
watching history watch us back
as it laughs
for it hasn’t changed
just morphed into new dimensions
thinking ’bout what’s happening
and trying to place
the talons down….
seems like the time and place
re-arranging the semblance of order
as confusionism takes flight
coming or going….
not that it matters
except to the mistress of her craft,
wake to the new dawn,
fly to the sun for a chat
finding out what’s really going on….
in and out of the mind
nothing really going on
except the tragedy of awakening…
caught between chords of yesterday
we find no reason to connect
two ways to black and white
no color barrier
just the eclipse of moons and souls
standing on the shoulder of the road waiting
thumb out
waiting for a soul with understanding and heart
listening for the reiki beat
of healing…
“relax…Just the basic facts….there is no pain…your lips move but I can’t hear what you say….you would not understand, this is not how I am…”
lost in the cycle of
disillusion,
should we let the butterflies land?
or let spellcheck take control….
stolen thoughts and set aside…
” when I was a child, I caught a fleeting glimpse…I cannot put my finger on it now, the child is grown,……….
the dream is gone”
so many gone….why is it.that I dive deeper
feel the pain,
need to reconcile the future with the past….
so hard to do when pulled so far
and so many pieces can only reconnect
with their whole….
“remember when you were young? we shone like the sun”……oh…
the smell of weed on the air….
wanting to be a part
to belong,
damn how these lyrical trips take me
magic carpet ride to yesterday,
can’t complain
cause I could never explain
as long as you’re still here on the journey
and seeing this girl through….
all she needs you to do…..is…..
ah,
the endless question of reason…..

Thank you for letting me have a little soul dilemma tonight, listening to songs of my history, thinking of friends here in bloggerville ,you know who you are….life years moving onto the coming on 50 years…so many miles to go before I sleep….”remember when you were young? You shone like the sun….now there’s a look in your eyes, like black holes in the sky…you reached for the secret too soon…you cried for the moon…shine on you crazy diamond”……”always searching, reaching…never ending…all apologies….it is what it is….we sat in a dorm room, drinking Lowenbrau….young college girls rich with the scent of Apple pectin shampoo, the lingering scent of my memories still on the air, men who wanted to be girls flitted in and out like gentle confused butterflies and I merely lingered in the outskirts trying to read the chapters…of who ultimately I would end up to be…..to be continued…darn YouTube……a time capsule for sure 🙂

Universal tone

We linger in the sands of memory
slipping,
sliding beneath-
no mark remaining,
nothing concrete,
solid.
A mere echo of what once was
like grasses gathering piles,
this and that caught up
in the Western wind that blows,
the universal tone
like singing bowls
comforting,
reaching in to the soul
calling you home.
Still blue green waters calm
like gentle rain in thick forests,
heady scent filling
the senses,
the memorys hold
gathering in perhaps to remember
if only for this moment
we lay like stones under the sun,
pieces of stars fallen
on windswept dunes we gather
reading the signs written above
reflective on water in reverse
from start to finish
we become at peace
in solitary fashion,
decorating this life
with who we are,
what we’ve become.

Coasting

Not East or West
Ghosts of the light
midnight sweetness like the lost thought
caught in a lyric
from a sad girls eyes
captured on the disc
moving round in time machines,
some coast of a memory
washed away.
Playing the games
as darkness keeps falling like
rain that forgot to come,
so we wait
soaking in the warmth remembering
yesterdays that soothe like a compress
and tired eyes close
as the skin on tile cools
like ice
still melting one drop at a time.
She is the poet of a place foreign to my senses,
captured in photographs
as she sings to me
the lullabyes that calm
songs of video games and blue jeans
stirring the ghosts
spoon by spoon
kitchen implements that create
like brush and word
and how for just a moment I knew I could be her
except for the fear
that always gets in the way
of the simplistic recipes
on how to build
the perfect creation.
Listening to Lana Del Rey (Video Games, West Coast and Blue Jeans) letting the mind decompress….lost in thougt as this girl is wont to do….no apologies….just letting it go….being. Youtube the three songs…..give a listen and drift into the sultry voice….quiet bliss.

Wandering

My mind is lost in clouds of bliss

in a land where the silence of emptiness rings on air

and the softness of peace cocoons the soul.

Manic moves come to abrupt endings

and I stand on the edge of the reflections

wondering what it is I now see within.

Lost at times yet still searching,

wandering the mind like a bohemian child,

the lost chord is waiting to be found

and the bells of the winds beckon to follow.

I need to be here in this place

where endless skies kiss the peaceful water

edged by land that left no prints behind,

forging forward to the destiny and faith

breathing in the slivers of dryness

parched lips sing hymns of patience

and set free the song of a time of believing.

I come to ask the clouds for their wisdom,

the drops of harmony and life-giving measure

caught in a cup and sipped slowly,

savored for the life force it gives.

beautiful image found at;  http://vicki73.deviantart.com/art/Endless-Skies-179350061

Angels

Who belongs to the hand that carves the angels

into the cold stone of nothingness

beauty created smooth and serene

touched by the gift of ages.

Eyes that see where nothing sits

etched piece by piece from marble

bringing forth the creation of an angel

never meant to fly free.

Does she sit pondering her moments

as those who pass by reach out to touch

her silent face that cannot cry

for remembrance is her gift,

partake upon passing

to never forget who lay at her feet.

Souls without face and only a name

perhaps a year or day

never why they could not stay

but to gift with the angel for the balance

she rests sadly by,

until years pass and no one recalls

why and who,

she will still continue to touch

and inspire images to signify her being,

the gift of those who loved

once upon a time.

For some reason when I saw this image, the song from Annie Lennox kept playing in my head so thought I would share the words that won’t let me rest until I put them out there. One of my favorite songs from her, Youtube it if you’d like. It is beautiful indeed.

“Dying is easy
It’s living that scares me to death
I could be so content
Hearing the sound of your breath

Cold is the color of crystal the snow light
That falls from the heavenly skies
Catch me and let me dive under
For I want to swim in the pools of your eyes”   Annie Lennox-Cold

Through the day

Eyes forward, moving

the sounds of silence broken

by wayward thoughts and a song

that plays quietly like a hum

I never knew was there.

The sounds of bells in the distance

taking me back to days spent

in tiny shoes and jackets bundled,

the breath visible on the air

but I’m no longer there

or am I.

Parallel universe of yesterday and today

flashes of memory haunt

and I welcome them in as I open the door,

gazing around to see what once was so large,

now so distant and small

but I know these walls and the window view

as I gaze ahead moving forward

to drifting back once more.

I linger in these thoughts like a paper doll,

trying on the different dresses

folding the tab over then off once more,

settling on the princess mode

how lovely is she

and I smile for I know she is me

and the young girl who always sought to become

has finally found the right fit

and tabs in place moves on down the road

and the bells are ringing round her wrist

as she sparkles and shines like fresh snow,

moving through the day she goes

new and whole.

Here

Lost souls moving in circles

I see through the glass so much more beyond,

between words spoken

and I am not lost but found

yet around me they swim searching

for what lies beyond the window.

I sing them the songs I’ve learned when I was so much younger

of life and time and the paths before my feet

that ache from standing for so very long,

yet I can fly if I choose,

but I need to know just a bit

of what it is they know,

what it is that they feel for being there

so much longer than I,

and still I sing

if perhaps it is only in my mind

like reel to reel moving round and round,

soft voices of truth that speak

of lost souls and fish bowls.

I find comfort in the moments

as the night hangs softly above me

and I have no fear,

I feel if anything a quiet

like a humming chord that calls

as eyes feel so very heavy

and the veil seems to fall

and I want the show to go on,

not ready to call it a day

I call it what it is,

another beautiful memory to tuck away

into its soft blanket of a moon shadow

as it lies quilted beneath a blanket of clouds,

I know it watches me

for I feel its touch as if on my shoulder-

reminding me that this ride makes me smile,

that this day ends on another note of amazement

and I am smiling

not that you can see,

but I hope you can feel it from where you are

reading this,

I am the silly orange fish still leaping,

not yet ready to tuck in,

not yet ready to let the song end…

trying to break over to the other side

where the others swim searching

for the way to see beyond,

and I long to just show them,

to engage in the joy

to tell the way to trade in the ghosts,

raise the spirits of heroes

with a warm breeze,

and in the end, if only to say

how I wish you were here.

Blue worlds

We move between places in blue worlds,

ripples on water move through my inner soul

carrying the  feelings of peace through beauty.

Skies meet where the world connects

and we drift on faded memories

music fills the space where silence lays.

We are not separate from these images

for we become a part of all we see

slipping away to glistening shores

we find ourselves always searching for more.

The answers sit on shelves in pages

and we flip each one so eager

like children aware of adventures to come,

and we fall into the dreams of light

frolicking in the waves of mood

diving under for treasure

we hold it close with love.

The thin white line between here and there

ruptured by the rays of the sun

coursing through it finds us waiting

a bounty of blessings come true.

 

“And it’s only what you do
That keeps coming back on you
And it’s only what you say
That can give yourself away

Underground sight and sound
Human symphony
Heard the voice, had no choice
Needed to be free”

Read more: Moody Blues – Blue World Lyrics | MetroLyrics

Hymn

The front row seat

eyes closed under the sun that sweeps

in and out in her finest cloud stole,

the notes play like a symphony

and I am carried away in the peace of the present.

Musical interlude

invisible strings pluck the bars

as the twinkling pitch of sound

drift on the wind to my ears.

I am lost in the hymn of the whisper of breeze

endless in its beauty,

a gift of a piece that marks the moments

as sweet escape into the concerto.