ALTERNATE PATHS 11/11/ 21
BY LYDIA BRESCIA
My eyes are leaking out the sorrow of a pain
deep within. Letting go of a passion boldly waved
before me like a matador teasing a bull.
It was a Probable reality rich with satisfaction
and Value Fulfillment trying to actualize
with Not Enough Fuel....
offering a glimpse of untold Joy mixed with Lessons.
Not chosen-an empty Pathway leading to some
Other reality, not mine!
That one was for someone else to try!
Then Hope opened another doorway
leading to some other reality an
even more Joyful probability...
This one ready to come into being!
This one, Ahhh.... includes all that's needed
to surpass the joys and pleasures and passions
even glimpsed in the un-created path!
These Lessons were learned with
Fun and abundance!
This alternate path has a Door
to the Universe Within! <3
LGB 2021
Lydia Brescia·Saturday, January 7, 2017
RimRocking Tree
Clouds running Morse-Code across the skies,
Cloud shadows gaily playing a Song...
Sun, tagging along for the ride
Twin tipped Pine tree blinking and waving at me!
I'd swear that tree was tryin to get my attention
And it DID!
That Ol Sol touched its tips and brushed a Kiss Upon it
The Tree seemed to Giggle with Joy while it waved to me
In circles, its' Glee! Morse Code played Taps in Sunset light
Sharing its Secret with me!
I cried out to show the others nearby, but yet, out it blinked,
the Secret was for only.... me! Jan. 7, 2017
Accompanied with these cymbals,
Strung in twines with thunderous melody
The weaves cloudened with lies,
For a beauty eclipsed the feat
I ponder to seek this!
For within this cave - deep flawed thoughts!
Quite an emblem I sought after-
No semblance for this!
Oghene! Osanobua!!
Is this a fleet or fleece?
Quite an embarrassment to function,
Yet, an insignia to a foe's imbrioglio,
Let's dance for this?
I wonder
Let's sing for that -
Such an allegiance.
Keep pondering o'er them
The limit is quite tentative
The limit; such an abyss!
Ask me 'dis feeling - I know,
Though I tell not.
Hypocrisy! Lies on its doormat
Deceit is our gentle brother
Shall we now kill for this?
Grind what doesn't belong to them?
Until then, I surge on!
MONSOON RIDE
Monsoon brings Ahhh, rain and cool and shade to me
In Desert heat.
Smiling, I await the treat
Lights flashing, thunder crashing
Dog cowers by my side.
I love the beat of thunder with
rat-tat-tat of rain.
I run outside with my arms flung wide
gathering cool raindrops on my hide.
Every year when weary of sun
blasting and searing,
it starts my yearning
for blessed monsoon
That lets my emotions Ride
wildly on Natures Tide. Lydia Brescia...2012
BY LYDIA BRESCIA JULY 2011
FOXTAIL TRAILS
THE GENTLE WIND TOUCHES FOXTAILS OUTLINING THIS COUNTRY ROAD.
THEY GLISTEN WITH SUNLIGHT POINTING OUT A DIRECTION YET UNTRIED.
LIFE BECKONS LIKE THAT, TO THE UNBEATEN PATH, TO SEE IF WE GET BY
GENTLE URGES ARE TAPPING US, TO SEE IF WE CAN DROP OUR WORRIES AND FLY
.
FOXTAILS HAVE A BAD REP. THEY COME IN SOFT N GREEN, GLIMMERING IN THE SUN
AND BURN, PRICKLY IN THEIR OLD AGE.
NEXT THING YOU KNOW AN UNSUSPECTING ANIMAL HAPPILY GOES BY AND FOXTAIL JUMPS AND HITCHES A RIDE! THE ANIMAL STOPS AND THUMPS UPON ITS’ RUMP
TO SCRATCH THAT FOXTAIL AWAY…WHEREUPON THAT FOXTAIL BURROWS IN THE GROUND TO SLEEP AND DREAM OF ITS’ ONE WONDERFUL RIDE!.
IN THE SPRING A SOFT GENTLE RAIN AWAKENS FOXTAIL FROM ITS’ DREAM, IT GROWS AND GROWS AND POINTS IT’S TOES AND STICKS ITS’ HEAD IN THE WIND !
BY LYDIA BRESCIA JULY 2011
Giant Mesa’s have gray,
Elephant- footed talus slopes.
That seem to be padding toward
The highway.
Tumbleweeds play along their toes
And one, bullied by the wind,
Flies like a hawk to land
Where tumbleweeds never see!
This one lands akimbo on the
Never-ending electrical wires,
It’s belly blazing in the sun
Noticing a view from above
Seeing anew the world that it loves!
This tumbleweed waits in wonder
For another blast to set it free
All the while, the others
are keeping watch beneath.
The winds of change blow
and the tumbleweed
risks the jump, files through the air
and lands with a skip and a bump.
Her fellow plantlets give her a wild name
Happily she rolls along showing them a game.
New paths, seen from above
New paths to new places
New paths for races
The game of life goes on
By Lydia Grace Brescia March 29, 2011
THE WINDS OF CHANGE
You can see the Wind only in what it moves.
Tumbleweeds come alive, skipping across desert highways
They break apart and little ones take off for lives of their own.
The breeze whispers to them..of safe hollows in which to hide.
Tumbleweeds, like Tribbles, jouncing over veils of coral sand
Repositioning Mother Earth's Blanket
Covering what is...now, uncovering what...came before,
The sand snuggles in curves of skeletons past
Mute images of animal lives as they join the Parade of Seasons,
Past and Present, Ever Circling.
Change is always....something we can count on.
The Sun will rise again...
Bringing with it...The Winds of Change.
April 2009 Lydia Brescia
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