sunrise ascends over a distant ridge,
grasses tilt toward the warmth,
silence shapes waiting fields.
This grassed non-place; no-name scent-depth.
Hearts, thereout which bound
Young rabbit-furred, yearling-spotted
Filled with Earth-breathed love.
As free they, and ever fresh, to
This feeling state alone
Left; as I! Floaty peacefulness.
Still yet to drop out of!
Copper bones clanking with the sound of screams far off.
Surrender is the only option I have.
Taking it all to Jesus I kneel and know he has me covered.
Washed in the blood of God himself I am forever joined by Yeshua.
Trusting in perfect peace I am guided by grace.
Planes continue to fly over head.
Thunder crackles through the silence.
The rain hitting the window cools down the summer heat.
I am aware of my own sense of self.
Shackled to my reality I belong as the center of my own experiences.
Echoes of consciousness felt from a first person perspective.
Aware of my limited gnosis I can only rest in my faith in Jesus.
Lavender drifts along the castle road,
its scent rising over the castle keep.
Far off, the sun spills gold
across the armor of a passing knight,
A horn sounds from the watchtower,
rolling through the valley like a slow-moving tide.
Hooves answer the rhythmic trot of a rider
returning home after drinking too many tankards of mead.
And the whole kingdom exhales,
wrapped in lavender air and fading gold.
morning drifts through the meadow's sigh
dew-pearled grasses lean and lie~
the wakening earth begins to sing
dawn rises like an old god waking, casting silver breath across the fields
soft spirits wander through the meadow, stirring wind in tall, listening grass
a white-horned stag lifts his gaze—myth lingers where the earth keeps its hush
Montana sky is as bright blue as it can ever be
I stare at the pines and aspens, feeling free
the air is as fresh and crisp as God could make
Coaxed, I feel a need for a picture take
Knowing full well it will never wholly do
will not capture essence of this sky of blue
the mountains twinkle with mica in a brave way
I feel this is God’s gift to me today
the only noise I hear is chattering bird speak
there is no movement from me to the mountain peak
It is as if God and I are here alone today
Nirvana on earth, I feel validated in a way.
Morning settles over the meadow~
the faint warmth of sun touches her skin,
and the air smelling of dew and crushed stems.
Grass sways in uneven patches,
brushing her ankles with its cool, damp edges,
cicadas buzzing like a low electric wire.
The sky hangs low enough to warm her face~
a soft veil of heat and breeze.
Clouds drift slowly like cattle in afternoon light
A woman stands far off,
her dress lifting slightly in the wind,
the scent of wildflowers rising around her.
And the whole scene breathes~
warm earth, soft wind, sun-thick air~
a moment held steady before it moves again.
harmonization~
wind and meadow lean as one
learning the slow sway
the twisting root of the old tree reminds me of trolls
elves no doubt play in this ditch, singing and chanting
There is something magical about my tree-lined road
“Most desolate road in Kansas” dubbed one newspaper
But to me it is Thoreau’s Pond, but better.
I delight in the verdant grasses in the spring
Field of yellow daisies, queen Anne’s lace and dandelions
Clover is sprinkled all over this land; it is a magical meadow
I see faeries in the summer, flying in forms of dragonflies
Bees, wasps, mud daubers, and humming birds
If I take pictures, there are spiritual orbs when they are developed
This is a mystical place, a land of enchantment, my countryside.
In dewy mists, by the clear brook, I slept
The sun robed in gold and amber crept
Hushed the twilight and let me sleep
Those hours where linger dream
And all about the lea did rabbits leap
And foxes chase and frolic in the gleam
Somewhere I sat in taller grass and sunbeams
That warmed my face the cooling breeze
If none of this is real, or as it seems
Let me sleep yet a while, if you please
So idyllic is this newly born day
So golden ephemeral, I'd fear it’d fade away
As such dreams oft when took to flight
Leave me lay in summer’s wake
And dawn's yawning light
In balmy honeysuckle, and soft clover leaves
What makes it less real as one perceives
Our waking hours a mess with grief
Our soft slumber; fleeting relief
I feel the flower I touch to my face
As surely as any rose you’d embrace
I pick a flower that bares no thorn
In fields of dew midst a golden morn’
Let me sleep awhile, I’ll be back soon
From lush fields of buds, and daisies strewn
My eyes upon a sun-tossed meadow
a sight I’d never seen
rippling ‘cross the rolling grass
lifted from a dream
Billowing midst birds and butterflies
her skirts as chaste as silk
hair of gold shone so bright
creamy skin, like fresh-drawn milk
Blinking twice she lingered there
then vanished sans a trace
Took the sunshine with her
~ left me bereaved of grace
humming babbling brook
nightingale cheerfully trills ~
susurrus of leaves
Sun rays playing light and shadow
embellishing wide wonderful rose meadow.
Its charismatic charm-
One can ignore seldom !
marvels my passion,
swaying emotion !
Alluring ! Amazing !
Mesmerising ! Gaily gazing !
I am watching abloom roses in row.
Fantastic kaleidoscopic show .
Floating in fragrance and beauty !
Me swimming in divine purity
Romantic aroma to influence -
My dreamy desires rippling in redolence.
Poem to Billy
(This is what I meant)
You went out into the meadow,
And blew your horn,
(or did you fall,
Down in the corn?)
Laughing you came back
To my arms,
And showed me
What you found!
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