Living layers

Lost in the deepest corners of the darkest sleep

hours pass living out scenes with strangers

and eyes that dig deep with knowing

into the soul as we watch the moment

like a television show first seen in color,

with wonder we breathe in the clouded air,

as if a long-lost spirit you’ve once known

watching you intently with a hint of smile,

as you recognize somewhere below

in that layer that you knew existed,

yet had never entered-

the calm moves over smoothing the storm

as the heart beats in time

with the dream realm story before you.

In dreams do we see

hints of those passed on into the energy of now,

connections of spirit that call to us,

we wake refreshed and smiling

for even in knowing the experiences not real

yet always remembered with a certain fondness for their being.

Do we gather lessons we’ve learned

while visiting these corners of the mind,

are the faces unfamiliar yet known

perhaps sent for reasons beyond our minds perception?

Deep eyes looked into mine and I had the sense

they were sent with a message

and as the weight of days were lifted and carried,

I felt like I could fly into the gathering clouds

knowing that movement was now needed

to join the underlying layer

to become one with the deepest self,

to be

to breathe upon waking

into a realm of peace.

Thoughts on a dream I had last night, a stranger whose eyes seemed so very familiar, kind and light and in conversation I left, walking away feeling as if the weight I had carried had been lifted away and that in allowing, I had become free. I like dreams like that ❤

World elixir

Round glass filled
Elixir of the world
Swimming in the goblet
Hope and love
Wishes and dreams
Blends of colors
Earth people united.
Cultures swirled
Like a melting pot filled
With heart and soul
Rainbows of goodness
Together twined
Like ribbon of silk
Crayola shades beyond a dream
Of something not created
Yet seen by all
Common understanding
Drink up
A toast
To the world that spins
Unfelt by the body
Sensed by the inner soul
Changes of time
Stars above move
Sparkling like ice cubes
In this fine crystal.
A toast to friends, family and strangers of this orb
We call home.

Soul weaver

She sits ensconced
Wood lean to shelter
Fingers weave nimble
Sweet grass in and out.
Ancient art passed
From mother to daughter
To daughter to son,
Island of their kind
The Gullah spirit
Like animals forced out of their home
They are losing their precious grasses
To sprawl of those who want more,
She sits and I watch as her
Tired fingers twist and turn
Creating beauty from strands
Of sea grasses,
She puts her soul
Into each basket she makes
Her heart apparent
In the workmanship.
She smiles and takes your money
Resuming her work
Light almost gone
As the sun starts to set,
She packs her wares to head
Back to her people,
Click click noises
As she moves slowly to leave,
Tomorrow is another day
Another soul basket to sell.

Another New York minute

Sitting in this plastic seat
Music pipes in like a discotheque
Melting pool of faces
Round the world
They land like birds
In this steel and glass shelter.
Jet streams fly as planes taxi by
Just another New York minute.
Hours to spend
Watching and waiting
Somewhere outside these thick glass walls
A small convoy carries remains
Of people who walked this town
Who walked these streets
Now a part of the atmosphere
Dust to dust,
The fog so thick
Almost fitting for a somber day
As people rush and push
And bustle about
On their way
To warm sand beaches
Sunny skies
Different countries
Or just heading home
In this New York minute.

where magic grows

She slipped past the door
Her companion by her side
Silently across the grass
Little prints in the dew
She is off to see
The place where magic grows.
She knows this place
As she’s been here many times before,
In the darkest hours
In her sleepy dreams
She frolicked with the little ones
Who live in this wonderful land.
This place she loves,
Where they always sing and smile,
Laughing in merriment and joy,
The place where they are always soooo very happy
When she returns,
And she tells them her tales of life
In the light where the big people live
But she wants to be here,
And she cries each time she has to leave,
But mum and dad would miss her
If she never came back
So she waves a small farewell
Till next time she says,
And walks back to the home
Of her princess bed,
And her beloved stuffed friends,
Closes her eyes
And with a yawn,
Drifts off again,
wondering if someday she will be too big
To come and play,
Wondering if someday
The magic will fade away.

Drive-thru /coffee

I sit alone
The drive-thru beside me out of the window
I wonder if the crazies will hit the gas
Instead of the brakes
Careening through to shatter this glass that
Separates me quietly pondering
And the coffee crazed morning souls
Waiting in the line.
I see a penny in the drive
Heads up
Not worth the risk
Of the drive thru
To rush out and snatch it up,
Gotta go
Gotta get that coffee
That donut
That bagel
Gotta move.
I rarely do this,
Sit alone in a shop
And don’t frequent this place much
Maybe I will roll up the rim
The new game they have
Scald yourself on hot brew
To win a car
A prize or two
Maybe a donut
As I trek to the work site on a
Cold Saturday morning
To learn CPR,
The defibrillator
So I can save a coworker
A stranger
Maybe someone who came here too often,
One too many donuts,
Or muffins slows the old
Ticker down,
Rush rush
Gotta go,
The people like ants
Pulling in and out
Their magic cup in hand
And I sit pondering,
Time to go.
Grab the coffee,
Too hot to play
If I win a donut
I shall give it away
Life training
Is no place
To walk in with a glazed confection.