Dusted off

We shake it off, the cobwebs and dust of dreams

silently rolling in their hushed selves beneath afternoon naps

the prints of a thousand bunnies lingering,

bits and pieces and hairs brought to order

natures cast off voodoo dolls run rampant

dwelling in the corner-space of the post

where I left my mind momentarily

like an old piece of chewing gum.

I had forgotten where it was that I had left it

as I moved away the brick-a-brack to find

the goals that were sifted away unknowingly by time.

I feel the grittiness beneath these worn and calloused bare toes

tripping through the dark in the heart of midnight,

and while standing below the clouds beyond the door

I heard the voice gently chide

knowing it is indeed the time to move forward

and attach the message to the letter sent

to the universe.

Shake it off, these dust bunnies of thought

with the purple feather sweep away

and dive into the depths of fear to know

the path has been found once more,

and as the sage who came by post to find me,

she had spoken to my heart and I heard the sound

of laughter on the wind,

come child lets begin

and in picking up the pen,

dipped in the ink of a thousand thoughts

the page blank before beckons me,

the time is now

and there is NO turning back.

Upon receipt of an amazing piece of work from my beautiful friend Tre, her latest book has found me now all charged up and ready to set that goal of publishing my own first book. What a gift, for a friend to inspire unknowingly and in shaking off the dust after my afternoon nap, tripping on dust bunnies and finding a laugh, the time IS now. Not later, not soon, but now 🙂  A book review will be coming soon for A New Kind of Down: The Breath & Bones of a Writer by Tremaine Loadholt.

 

 

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 ❤

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.

 

Roads of the mind

Dust covered roads wait
Patience the virtue for natures soul
steps blown clean after storms
cleaned slate watching the horizon
on these roads of the mind.
Peace calls on restless winds
carrying me back to school days
dreamless times spent knowing
there was always something more,
voices keep company in the midnight hour
as pens scratch across blank slates
spiral books filled and forgotten
as the words fell unheard, unseen.
Grasses grow beside lonely paths
and I never could make up my mind
to Frosts nature and pondering poems,
for my head resided amongst the stars above,
where no path stood
just wide open spaces of galaxies
and planets unknown to all
but the soul that remembers
below the conscious surface,
energy flows
always following
the road home to the heart.

From here

We smooth the surface, filling in spaces

holes dug searching for answers,

outwit the worms for they will never feed

on this soul

for ash will blow on the wind and settle

back into part of the whole

as we stand and feel the energy rise

giving guidance and peace to the mind.

We are the dirt where unknown bones are buried

burrow through like the creatures residing

deep in the unknown,

snakes sleep in gaps where light never finds

and we too are connected

in our fears and our movement through

like curving waves undulating parting the grasses

we bask in the sun where we find it,

wondering how we had forgotten to remember

these moments of a solitary silence,

and words will rise like fog

burning off in the morning light

becoming like the dew that lies on mounds

burial grounds for yesterday,

damp and a ready feast

for the birds that sink their faces below earth

searching for sustenance,

moving to where it is that perhaps they hear

come here to this place below the towering tree

and find the gifts given,

crawling insects and worms to fuel

for another day of life.

Monday meandering thoughts on dirt (don’t ask me why, it just kept surfacing like a small hill) and life. Peace and blessings and a happy day to one and all ❤

Glitter like gold

We live our lives

like tides moving in and out

never stationary for any given moment,

glittering like gold on the ocean waves.

We come to places that bring peace,

passers by in this second of time,

watching the faces of strangers

dappled in light from the sinking sun,

we shine when we feel

the salt spray glisten upon our souls,

hushed words at sacred places where

nothing remains but candles and the sense

of a moment when everything changed,

saying our prayers to the clouds above

for something beyond our fingers touch.

Mermaids slip silently by,

their bodies languid on the gentle waves

a flicker of a circle and then into the depths,

on their way to their next audience.

We smile as we move on our way

memories captured to carry

away with our hearts

as we gaze behind in the mirrors,

content to be breathing,

to be at peace.

An accident occurred where this image was taken, a father and daughter plunged their vehicle into the water, and although a few attempted the rescue, were unable to save their lives. There are two candles and a bouquet of flowers to mark the spot, where we had walked so many times before. A solemn place this night where the sunset glittered on the waves like gold. Rest in peace Carol and Gene.

 

breaking dawn

We stand in quietest thought

watercolor skies fill the soul with a peace,

tranquility knows what the heart feels

as the water lays smooth at my reach.

Boats bob gently in the harbor

old worn lines tether her to the dock

as birds walk without a sound

long slender necks dip below the ripples

gathering their morning food

and I watch the hues wishing

for paper and paint to capture the sight

greeting me with a proper good morning shine

reflected off the fin

as dolphins swim towards the places

where the sun will rise

and I too will be there to greet the light

rocking on the green blue water

anticipation for the day to come,

we move into the waiting sea

balancing our bodies

and quenching our souls

with visions of this breaking morning paradise.

Went fifteen plus miles out fishing yesterday on a boat on the Gulf of Mexico, caught a few, tossed back a few, and managed to keep my stomach in check so as to not embarrass myself as a sea-tosser of yesterdays supper. A good day, caught some color too and after six hours, decided I must be getting old as I needed a proper nap to catch my energy back up. The boat and some ocean pics. All photos by me 🙂

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Of the sea and sand

We leave imprints in the sand of hearts,

friends and days filled to overflowing

moments shared for just a small bit of time

just enough to cement the bond

of smiles and laughter

understanding and kinship.

We live by the sea that flows like a thousand days

passing us by often too quickly,

capturing snippets of a memory to carry

along for the ride through the skies.

You can only gather so much

hands in a frenzy to take in each piece of beauty,

and a page of each lesson learned,

every new color embossed upon our thoughts.

The Opera Rose who speaks to all,

and a pastel water filled world unfolding,

a word or thought,

a sigh or smile,

it all means so much when brought together

and embraced like a wildflower that thrives

in the direst of circumstance,

and we never question what happens,

why certain people we encounter just surface at that right time,

like mermaids and the mighty octopi of the depths,

mysterious yet embraced because we know

in the deep of trust we find the good,

we sit mesmerized by the gifts life gives

as it indeed knows just what is needed

at those times when souls collide

like a thousand stars in skies beyond our view,

we embrace the finite of the here and now

knowing tomorrow is just another day

unlike any before or any that will follow,

an emptiness will linger

as we empty our cups of used colour,

we are humbled to leave our prints,

allowing them to be washed away as the moon rises

and another night departs,

our thoughts remain stoic and strong

knowing where there are friends within

we will rise to the surface to find

a golden sun setting

or an almost full moon rising

to bookend the time

between yesterday and tomorrow.

Thinking of a beautiful soul I met this Spring, who filled my day with a light happy calm and a smile to light up any moment, may the ride home be calm and peaceful and your days be full until your return, and always know that you’ve enriched my life as no one else will ever do. To Seattle Sue ❤ Peace and blessings, and a special shout out to Angie ’cause I know you’re reading this. No comments needed my beautiful friend, just happy you’re a big part in my little piece of this universe ❤ to friends ❤ priceless.

 

Going deep

Hanging suspended

waiting in the still of day

reaching down to burrow

life-sustaining nourishment

much-needed on these times.

Do not touch for harm may come

a thousand roots run down to meet

the surface of the earth

hanging like vines that know

which is the right path to travel.

I stare at the twists and turns

attempting to make sense at times,

then remembering the simple truth

of just going with that flow

and trying to keep a light heart

when the darkness finds a space

like a root driving in deep and plumbing

the goodness that hides within.

Eyes close and breathe in the storm

sitting on the cusp of finding and striking

as clouds gather and the chimes toll,

we give thanks for the gift of water

and pray to survive this element

once more.