Unnoticed and trodden, numb, unaffected,
Pain laid unsheathed as the spring starts to thaw,
This heart’s ever hopeful to wear a new skin.
I am the land upon which Autumn leaves become rotten,
Which once had life, now ended, now dead,
But nourishment lives with all that’s forgotten,
This heart’s always faithful to beat once again.
I am the land upon which the Summer sun scorches,
Whose once swollen rivers run dry and to dust,
Existence in stasis, be still with the forces,
This heart wills the moment to beat its own drum.
I am the land through which spring will awaken,
The beginning of life full of beauty and newness,
Quicken the pressure all barriers forsaken,
This quickening heart has forever to live.
Constancy by Paula Doran
Facebook/Women’s Spiritual Poetry
it comes to me quickly –
all four seasons are flowing,
of this mornings beach.
Here are bands of snow
from this spell
we call Winter.
Here, layers of leaf-surf to shuffle through the memories,
we called Fall.
Which, seems to me,
was just yesterday?
The sands dna carries the Summer sun,
within its restless, shifting soul.
It whispers promises of returning warmth and sunshine as I stand, here and now, in cold, driving rain,
working through markers of time,
arriving at my favorite season,
Grief, death and hope are front and center,
as Vinnie’s beautiful, driftwood cross
still stands as a memorial to his mother’s recent passing,
as well as, the hope of springs sure arrival!
Easter carries the sharp winds of death,
alive with the eternal mystery of resurrection.
I realize there are many symbols of spring,
on this mixed media stretch of grainy life.
The all-weather gulls floating, trusting,
The rhythm of the waves forever dancing with,
Then there’s me,
aware and alive,
even that slippery word,
surrounding my steps!
It doesn’t matter
that I don’t know what that looks like…yet.
Knowing I am worthy of all this is enough.
rising strong on mended wings,
trusting the healing path taken,
the work continues.
shy, twinkling lights
to glow and illuminate
the most fearful, secret corners
of the darkest rooms
of my heart.
I smile and silently shout, Yes!
I promise to love and be loved!
Can you hear me, wherever you are?
Will your heart shout out as well?
I can’t stop smiling.
that fearless lion,
who will lead us all home
right where we belong.
i dreamed my body the size of colorado
mountains ranges and free open spaces
thirsty arroyos and slippery canyon walls
my lungs the wild breezes over the plains
reincarnation nothing more than fresh flowers this spring
and death the blaze of falling leaves
yes i will live here a thousand years
barefoot and hungry
wild and free
roaming a wild country in my buffalo self
in a pathless land
somethings will not change and remain fact always
we are ashes of stellar death
particles of infinity
flowers on the range
wild plains by Adam DeFranco (C) 2016
We are waves of One.
Our purer self has no name.
Even our hollow places are full of light.
Don’t take a breath, receive it.
Know everything before you have a thought.
Be what ripens on a jagged branch,
still hard and bitter.
As soon as you are soft and sweet
a doe will nuzzle you, and you will fall.
Her little fawn will crush you on its tongue.
Exist as purple food
so that the least furry creature might
leap and play on a Sunday morning.
Be the burgundy pulp of a glistening heart.
Now fall even deeper into green meditation.
Agree to become the radiance
in the atoms of a plum.
Alfred K. LaMotte