Raised edges

We bloom in our place
struggling to find our way to the sun,
reaching and finding
the blue skies waiting
and we curl the edges
trying desperately to catch
the mist of a silent morning
to quench the thirst
for another day of bliss,
another moment of joy.
In the shade of a tired tree
we sit patiently and listen
for the sounds of a lingering cloud
that slowly drifts on by,
followed by herds of fluff
covering the energy of a rising sun
but we find comfort here
in this familiar time
where our heart knows the sounds
and the blessed sights of this sacred place,
captured in a moment of peace
we bloom in our place
where we are planted.

Photo taken at our old home in Buffalo NY, a site I can only guess is currently covered in snow. While we sit here under a tornado warning and tick tock, the time is passed while I write and safe again. The pie is almost done and I am truly blessed to be here in this moment. ❤ Peace and blessings, K

Gifts given

I asked for the finding
feathers for a jar kept,
having been so very long since
I had touched the silken threads
of yesterday.
Colors that never lose their sheen
seen like gifts given
found unexpectedly like the moments,
how they rise up to thrill the soul
in their simplicity,
the gentle beauty twirling in fingers
wondering at the scenes seen
on wings flying to the very heights
while soaring lightly on winds,
gathering the knowledge of all below
moving about generically
without thought or care,
but those who stare into clouds blue banked
beyond the hues of light changing,
knowing there is always more
even when it seems so scarce,
we dip deeper into our journey
shifting the wings to change direction
and finding new paths,
different shadows and perhaps even more beauty
than even imagined.
I asked for a feather
and he sat silently waiting,
watching my approach.
His brown and white specked magnificence
left me with the simple awe-struck mood
as he turned to gaze at me
with knowing eyes,
returning to his silent stance
watching something beyond my view
and I tried to capture him
as the sun rose in a butter yellow splendor,
he hung tight to his post
waiting patiently as I moved about trying,
perhaps he knew
that the memory alone would suffice
of the moment caught
in the heart.


Softest touch

Dreams stir alive the thoughts
a thousand feathers floating on a sea
blue shades and hues take flight
and waves wash over
a form of silence.
Lingering notes fill the senses
of a hundred birds in flight
soaring over the whitest clouds
as the rain falls gently down.
A hush is then heard as the shower abates,
random drops linger then disappear
and the patterns of black pinpoints settle
my mind plays the mantra once more,
ten prayers to the lingering lost.
I stand on the precipice
and watch the unfolding of calm,
as breath moves in, out and through
I stand in this space
as one.