Reawakened Poems

THE SILENT KISS

The quiet between us settles into light,
a hush that weighs more than any word ever spoken
Your breath leans closer as if to speak my name.
Yet nothing breaks the air, no sound is heard.

A shaking pause: 
time loosens its embrace,
the fading light leans in,
holding our hearts in place,
I feel a promise hover on my lips,
a secret tide that sways then slowly slips.

No language superior to this quiet vow,
no music sweeter than the moment now.
The silence bends then deepens into bliss.
The world reawakened within one tender kiss.

And in that silence even stars confess
love grows deepest, when it speaks no excess

Along With The Thunder

in the corner
of a blanched bungalow 
sits a self-portrait: 
loose bantu knots 
the color of volcanic ash 
her living nightmare 
   it was so much-
stampeding rain 
wild winds
the icon of tropical thunder
with summer lightning
   but the spite of ash 
threatened the fete
smashed the sun
morning had broken
   an island smeared 
like God had face-palmed us
judgment for another place
another people 
resting on your gables 
the deadweight of ash 
crashing queenie's 
garden party
The Lord is come.
   handling her Scriptures
squeezing the Holy Spirit 
out of print 
was she wholly confessed,
to be due robes of white 
satin? 
  the sun reawakened, 
                ash washed away, passes 
  through her window 
  where she sits 
cornered

Romantic Seed

Drifting 'bout the buzzing town
Glowing signs and neon lights
up the tow'er and its crown
there it sat, up such great height
a two leaf bud yearns for rite

the great winds sway both wings 
fight for life with immense cling
loosened roots from its earth
reawakened in my birth
as a seed

Delphic

Title 1

"The forest is my loyal friend A Delphic shrine to me." ... by Ralph Waldo Emerson

The written word bears roots abound
Hail favored mist of hallowed ground
Announced breathtaking full-filled air
Spreads out enjoyment summons fair
Forgiving trailed Earth's crowning Star
Forest startup's reserves stretched far

Healthy hoards and wholesome intakes
Fresh novel minds elsewhere, retakes
Obsessed consumed florists stationed
Lives styled out stretched reawakened
Seedlings advanced Heavens promised
Groundbreaking achievements calmest

Cob-web silk thread eight-legged shooters
Tethered roots edged equaled footers
Floods 'neath grounds raise the gigantic
Psalmist summoned lessened frantic
Misplacements sequenced adjustments
Cause coursed through major monuments

Misfortune causeway lengthens aches
Stressed strung-out unmeasured outtakes
Commons traversed rights owned presence
Neighbors challenged core quintessence
Claimed righteousness labors bear fruits 
Attributes are well-served ... grassroots.

Come to Me in April

Come to me in April
  when the chill of March winds have died
  and the flowers that struggle to bloom
  now find sun rays that warm and loom;

come to me in April
  when all the winter cold slips reluctantly away
  and the garden breathes anew swept by spring brooms
  with daffodils and tulips from the earth exhumed;

come to me in April
  when all my memories float on by
  escaping the tears never meant to cry
  and what was can never be undone;

come to me in April
  when the tide of Easter resurrection lives again
  God's promise to the souls of men
  that life goes on beyond the here and now;

come to me in April
  when all our dreams are reawakened
  and the bonds of love are never shaken
  freely given, ready for the taking.

The Memory Room

Dim light
  sun rays reflecting 
 through the window glass
  casting shadowy images dancing along the walls,
early morning residue of the night
  where hopes and dreams survive
 immovable from mind and heart
  eluding the memories of the soul;
kindred spirits reawakened
  cluttering up the memory
 held snug, safe within each memento
  those I gave you, the ones you gave to me;
angels chanting
  of Christmases, birthdays out of time
 cascading flowers fallen petals, dried
  pressed within a card, a book, a bible;
secured in this sanctuary
  of silenced hymns and unanswered prayers
 grateful for what was, what is
  between two friends, companions, lovers in the night;
Extrapolate what you may imagine
  conjure up 
 your pseudo images
  to all that was and could have been,
here
  kept safe, protected,
 sheltered forever
  in the memory room.

Spring's Way

In the dusting of the springtime,
There’s a new dawn and a rebirth,
Bloom permeates turbulent clime,
The days ahead are swathed with mirth.

Sweet-scented thoughts of yesterday,
Hope arises from the debris,
Rejuvenation strides spring’s way,
Nature sees through a clear iris.

Shrivelled daises sprout & flourish,
The meadows are reawakened,
Colours and patterns to cherish,
Hands of gloomy tides are slackened.

We arise to nature's embrace,
As we run the world’s fleeting race.


June 14, 2023.

A Tiny Christmas Gift

The mouse awoke to organ music.
“strange”  he thought “it’s not Sunday.”
He stirred listlessly
Reawakened by the sound
Of scurrying…whispering
A baby crying…???

On opening his eyes
He gasped….
Two large, brown eyes
Stared over an open mouth.
He froze….not fear
But wonder…

A huge commotion followed.
Nothing to do with him.
Just the preacher
Whispering in his deep voice
And….singing….
He loved the singing
Mostly the hallelujah’s
And the one with the loooong  Gloria’s.

He listened for the shuffling
The drone of the people leaving
Peaking out….
He saw those eyes again
The mouth whispered:
“Merry Christmas”.
A small hand left a broken cookie.

The mouse leaned back
Into the arms of the baby
The lights dimmed in the church
The small hand waved goodbye
The boy and the mouse smiled.


©11/25/2022

Writing Challenge - Write A Christmas Poem
Sponsor - Constance LaFrance

Goose Bumps

cool
breezes
soft ruffle
of Goose feathers
an idle instinct
reawakened
bids adieu
to water's
chill

8/13/2022

Say It In Nine Poetry Contest

Near Death

In the aftermath of giving birth I personally had a out of body experience.
Welcoming life into this world, Something went iffy. I could scarcely hear the sounds on the hospital’s speakers
code blue. Nurses and doctors routinely and expeditiously maneuvered to bring me back to existence.
I personally visualized a impression of a manlike image
embracing me, kissed me on my right cheek saying go back my child i’m not finished with you after three days slumbering I was reawakened.

Hyacinths and Daffodils

Sleeping beauty has reawakened, and it is springtime again,
So like the younger days, when you skipped with Madeleine.
Purple hyacinths and daffodils, are fragrant in the meadows,
And the bush near the house, is colored with burgundy rose!

Wild hyacinths and dewy daffodils, usher in the sassy season,
Giving secret joy to many hearts, within the blooming region.
Birds sing in chartreuse fields, from morning until glitzy night,
When a day's flamenco dancers, are the rapture of moonlight!


Written on 4/24/2022
For: Spring Rhyme - 8-12 Lines Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin

Love Lingers

You chose to retreat
And retract your feelings
Stuffing every last one in the depths of your heart

Reluctant and torn
I fought the urge to reach out
Trying to avoid the consequences of being apart 

No way they all disappeared
Those reawakened feelings so real
Had you fooled them to stay, or willed them gone for good?

Though outwardly hidden
My guess is, they'll linger
And if meant to be, time will reveal as it should 

@katladyt_t
February 11, 2022

A Bit of Ares

A Bit of Ares

 

We begin to number

the defining moments             

as we start the slide

into a seeming oblivion

Clawing away our innocence

Sharpening our senses

baring our internal fang

uncannily unleashing the beast

We crouch keenly

surging with passion

roaring our desires

We start to prance

with a reawakened hope

we are prowling with zest   

daring our dire yearnings

At the Graveside of One Who Suffered

How shall I weep with those who mourn
When I have sensed the sweeter breeze
Wafting o'er the stones and through the trees
Across the sealed bronzed lid of death-borne
Sadness, yet eternal healing surely means
The bereft of pain are free; 
The bereft of loss are free. 
And so am I who stands before the glaring pit
Gazing into vast eternity, thinking only of me.
I shall not linger long to greet the wounded 
Souls, whose cries of anguish at the bier
Reawakened in me long-dormant fear of dying
O, pity me, that I should self-accusing be
Grief-stricken without a solitary tear.

Published in PS: IT'S POETRY
Anthology of Poetry Soup
Arczis Web Technologies, Inc., 2020

FIRST PLACE WINNER
Brian Strand's Contest 2021

SELECTED FEATURED POEM
Poetry Soup, September 28, 2021

POETRY.COM COLLECTION
Poetry.com
April 16, 2022

Unto Thee

One last day to suffer,
as silence endures

One new day engendered,
to motion toward

A musical seamstress,
to stitch me back whole

A lyrical consort,
inscribed to behold

Each word as my seed,
 laying fertile the plain

Each phrase lost and orphaned,
my spirit reclaims

That breath once bespoken,
new hope to set free

That voice reawakened
—whose soul unto thee

(The Book Of Prayers: April, 2020)

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