GENTLE VISITOR
"My eyes welcome the sunrise, that iris of fire so pretty in its mascara of pure light." Angela Abraham
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Daylight, a gentle visitor,
stepped softly through the threshold of dawn.
It lingered there, a welcome guest,
dispelling shadows, chasing the night.
A lucid glow, a soft embrace,
illuminating every space.
The morning light, a calming grace,
bringing tranquility, filling the day with peace.
She learned young
how to sit without asking.
The door was always open
as an inventory.
Footsteps passed like weather
Many whistled.
Some didn’t speak.
Some shoes which stayed longer,
she polished them.
She learned to read
the language of perfumes,
how some lingered
and how others lied.
She studied the dialect of doors,
how some closed gently,
others slammed like verdicts.
She knew voices which followed bruises,
and which followed bargains.
She learnt which soles meant payment
and which meant punishment.
The sunset arrived daily
like a visitor who never asked
why she was still there.
And the door,
that faithful aperture never closed.
Not even once.
Something was different this morning
I'd gone to bed chilled,
reached for another blanket
knowing I'd have to defrost with coffee
before bracing for the north wind.
But sunlight peeked at me
through my kitchen window.
Too tempting not to open the door
and say, "Good morning."
There it was—
the first crocus greeting me
as if it was her calling card.
I felt the warmth of sunshine
on my face
and grinned knowing Spring
didn't forget to visit.
It was on the 7th of May.
It was in the early part of the day.
He appeared but was never invited.
Upon seeing his kind, I was not delighted.
There were smaller ones I had seen,
But not this size since I was fifteen.
Slowly, around the corner, I saw him glide.
He then settled into his curl as if to hide.
I called a friend and learned that he was out of town.
I then called a relative who could not be found.
Years ago, I touched a large one as it lay in a hedge.
"He's harmless" are the words that my coworker alleged.
Now, 60 years later, a large one had glided onto my patio.
Of this I was certain: He could not stay but had to go.
I then quickly reached for a hoe and a stick for my defense.
That snake was in the wrong place; Of this I was convinced.
Indeed, I was a little afraid and taken aback;
But my fear quickly switched into a mode of attack.
050325PS
The nights were short,
A clear summer, long and hot,
A chickadee visited every dawn,
And caught a stunning view by the pane.
Maybe my nest’s walls knew,
A fluffy gray-black chick who...
Lit the sun pointed to my nest house...
Captured my morning drowse.
A courageous little skylark,
With a notorious chirp crack,
She repeatedly taps my pane,
And sharply beeps, in rhythmic strain.
Pulled from beloved slumber, I scan who,
Through my drowsy eyes, I view...
The vivid rattle, truly, she’s a great dancer,
My ears almost paralyzed by the clatter.
Through the solid unglazed pane its clear,
The morning breeze powers the air,
The lovely melody alarms my doze...
Tirelessly, she airs her pose.
The shrill stole my focus,
A lone owls’ hoot – a secret in the sunrise,
The arduous tweet feels counterfeit,
But the unfolding truth won’t lie or cheat.
You make me
Tingle
The flutter of your wings
Tickles my soul
As your beauty darts before me
Resting for a moment
On my timeline
Capture me please
Let me be absorbed.
Hold time delicately
As you wave and say hello
I want you to live here
In my consciousness
So I can meditate on
The beauty of
This fleeting moment
I hope you feel the love
In some ethereal way
The joy
Of my connection with you
So that it brightens
Your colours
Fashioned by a masterful artist
From the palette of
Whimsical, yet powerful design
Simultaneously
Reflecting into the
Eye that beholds
The extraordinary
Dichotomy of
Real
From first imagined
A fragile construction
Of pure love
Soon the breeze of sadness
Will whisk you away
Yet I will stay
In this moment
Close my eyes and..
Re-live
The wonder
The vibrancy
Of having you
Pass by
As you visited
So closely
Too closely
To ever be forgotten
bird feeder pole snapped in two
suet cakes gone-border collies barking
large furry forager departed- sated
It comes whisking in when least expected,
Its steps silent, its grip too cold.
It slips through cracks, unseen and unchecked,
No whistle blown, no stories told.
Whether the doors are opened or locked,
It doesn't knock to take its due.
Whether the windows are open or closed,
It cares not for the clear sky or view.
It will one day meet us all, face to face,
Perhaps today, perhaps tomorrow.
It visits only at its chosen time, regardless of place,
Carrying both peace and sorrow.
May the heavens be pleased when the last breath is drawn,
For it is a phantom force we can never deflect.
This morning I got visitor...
The cutest ever little guest.
A sparrow, walking as a twister
on my rope with washings space.
It looked at me with browny eyes
and bravely stayed in front...
A piece of bread I found at once
and my guest got his breakfast pot...
I hope that little sparrow friend
will start to come each day.
My crumbs will wait for him no end
and he will bring me joy.
astral visitor
spies the pets first
dogs begin to growl
cat screeches and runs
sleepy sister wakes up
thinks she is dreaming
goes back to sleep
she is not ready yet
to see beyond the veil
she may never be
her sister floats away
I drink the dirty water,
I walk with a dirty vessel
I stand on a dirty ground
yet profoundly
I even ingest dirty food
and my blessings
I am confessing
it's not what i partake
of it's not what I'm earing
but what resides within me
for you see
I am righteousness of God in Him.
I am my truest self
not of this earthen soil
I am from above
So be this my profound declaration of faith and indentity
So be true truth purity and righteousness come from within
My God is inside us and we're not dependent on external circumstances
Such even this world be so surrounded by imperfections and impurities
Our true nature can remain untainted we are righteousness
Our truth self is not external affirmation our spiritual identity
Understanding our true home in God soul so our spirit
But a shining reflection of the divine
Shine so, soul spirit and heart ever shines bright
We're the light shining bright may our words
Inspire others to embrace their own true nature
I am not from here I'm just a visitor-I am from above
Amen
7/10/2024
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©
When your pulse quickens, and
You gasp at that moment of time.
You realize you're the only one in the room,
But not alone.
The room becomes smaller, and
The air is thick with fear.
This is when you see the shadows,
Dodging between the doorways.
The lighting in the room becomes darker,
As you hear the whispers and noises all around.
Your curiosity gets underneath your skin.
Goosebumps, chills, and the visions.
The visions of the unknown in your mind.
The house becomes cold as ice,
Showing your breath as you breathe.
You hear giggling from your grandson,
Sitting on the floor, clapping his hands,
As the toy train moves by itself.
He has no fear,
Then you see the ghostly hand,
Caressing his head as he looks up,
Saying, "Grandma."
You were never in any danger,
She came to visit her grandson.
You prayed for a sign since her passing,
Every day, your heart breaks missing her,
She's been here the whole time.
She walks over and kisses you on,
Your cheek as she disappears.
Death, an unwelcome visitor in life,
Stealing loved ones, causing heartache and strife,
We stand there, shattered, as they slip away,
Fighting a battle they cannot sway.
A million words and tears won't bring them near,
We try to hold on, to keep them here.
Their loss engraved upon our heart,
Leaving scars that never truly depart.
I feel as if I'm buried with you,
Though I know I should let go, it's true.
I scream to release, but it's hard to start,
Can I find the strength to mend my heart?
Your voice, your warmth, I deeply miss,
Regretting the moments I did not seize.
Yearning to turn back time's cruel pace,
To create more memories, embrace your grace.
They say time heals, but doubts remain,
Can I ever find solace from this pain?
Holding onto memories, a comfort they bring,
Yet, forgetting is not an easy thing.
.
All summer long the feeder hung—
its visitors a timid lot.
I listened to their calling, sung
through languid days, sultry and hot.
And then I left a little trail,
each day more seed, closer to me.
I did not know if I'd prevail,
or if my hands would ever be
a place of trust, a soft embrace—
if you would pause a moment there
to share with me a breath of grace,
a fleeting joy, a wordless prayer.
Today I sat so still and calm...
your feathered heartbeat in my palm.
Peter Morgan ' WINTER VISITOR'
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