Exodus in slumber

In deepest dreams we move
between the worlds of conscious thought,
slipping between the spaces
where the light filters in.
We deftly skim the surface,
aware of these images
that yesterday unearthed.
Exodus of self and soul
driven out to watch from afar
the restless imagination at work,
relentlessly throwing signs
some sticking to the banks on the side,
we surface grasping onto
the faintest edge of reason.
Faces from afar
come whispering their secrets
and we walk down cobbled roads
moving downward seeking shelter
in shaded alley ways,
the glimmer of water in view.
We stand watching
the words spoken
the smiles and frowns
everyday people
filling our thoughts,
as we watch helplessly
we try to gather the innocent,
sheltering from the storm
if only in dreams,
the awareness of the angels
watching over
the wistful dreaming
of a soul unbound.

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Images taken in Puerto Rico a few years back. Poetry based on my dream state last night, I felt as if I weren’t sleeping all night as I watched the dreams play themselves out, one after another and I was aware I was dreaming, mentally talking to myself about them and woke to find the fitbit telling me I slept eight and a half hours….hmmmmm…..

In and out

We move in stages

smooth like stone worn by the hands of time,

colors blended to become a whole

perfection found in corridors.

We open our thoughts to places in dreams,

walking silently as we listen to the wind,

whispered history of centuries passed

while we feel the energy flow

from the ground to our soul.

In and out of sleep and dreaming

I know these places from lifetimes ago,

hands smooth the surface of images found

balancing the mind in the context of this time.

Who do we become when we step knowingly

the rabbit run of mazes and mystery,

rushing to the party for a last cup of tea,

that stained these walls with their leaves and scent

waiting for rain to brighten the hue

as the dryness becomes

a part of the daily life

and these mountains carved know the secrets

told by the seer before time began,

we become transfixed listening

for that heartbeat of the universe.

Solitude of stone

In her moments of peace
Eyes closed to the world
Immersed in the emptiness
Of a moment of solitude.
Cast in stone unmoving
She feels the sense
As the rain washes pieces away
Smoothing edges
A hundred years of being
She remains unchanged.
The solitude of stone
Keeping vigil upon
Those that come and go
Knowing she will see them another day
When they too shall join her
As the hymn is sung she waits
Patient in her mourning
Time never moves in this place
Seasons pass
Always the same
Unseeing eyes of concrete
Gather rain of tears
Washed away by the wind
Today, tomorrow or yesterday
The sun will rise
The moon will set
And she will sit
And be in the solitude
Of stone.