20 Lines A Day

A Community of Writers and Photographers


The Beat

Originally posted on Spirit Led:

Colorful Stained Glass

The turning and the churning
is in each of us
the desire to make change
if we can persevere
ignore the rain

The slashing and the gnashing
of self-sacrifice and teeth
the pain of labor’s love
if we have patience
release the white dove

The prowling and the growling
rumbles from deep within
the courage to make our demands known
end our children’s suffering
see them grow

The timing and the rhyming
we each find our own beat
make joyful music for the world
wrap each other in our arms
keep our hearts warm

Together
together
together

And the beat goes on

©SpiritLed 2014

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Prayer

Originally posted on Spirit Led:

Fog with trees and lamp post

Connect me
to some nugget of truth
or insight
that I may record it
for the world to know
that I may spill it
from sacred lips
like a stream ever-flowing

And if the sound still falls
on deaf ears and eyes avert
from the vision in my soul

So then use me as the song
in their hearts
the breath when they
are disconnected
the lonely howl of pain
when the darkness lasts too long

May I be the focal point
of hopeful direction
a calming in the rage
a cooling in the heat

Let my life be a lamp in the fog
starting first with me

©SpiritLed 2014

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God-Filled Cracks

Pristine ocean waves
call you to places you’ve never
dared to go, places inside
your mind where the light

burns bright and exposes
all your sullen and dingy
thoughts on god and why
he doesn’t show up in your life

more often, compels you to examine
under the force of the pounding waves
your acts of defiance
in the name of self-preservation

but which self is still unclear,
despite the microscope and
operating table where you can
carefully dissect and then put

the pieces back together
stitch by stitch, like a Frankenstein
doll with a porcelain heart,
stuck together with tacky glue

that is only guaranteed for a few years
and after that who knows what happens
to those shattered pieces?
Do they break apart and float,

getting lodged in the crevices?
Or do they simply disintegrate
as if they never existed?
You think the glue will hold

because you always were naïve
and the patched up parts
are your religion, the glue-filled
cracks where you find your god

SpiritLed 2014


Heartsong

Bedroom with moonlight and smoke

Twilight sparkles in violet eyes
that gaze upon a star-filled night
ponder the vastness of the world in view
questions if there is any more in this lifetime or the next

Moonbeams shower illustrious glory
a worried mind with hopes for tomorrow
soaks in the rays, feels the loving arms
of those gone before,
soothing lullabies for an ancient generation
raise laughter to the sky

Through thick and thin
disaster and delight
she takes the moon to be her partner,
her loving mistress of the night
who fuels her warrior spirit
and fills her with the courage to face each day
to know and recognize
that the pounding,  fleshy organ in her chest
brings life not from its incessant beating
but from its unending capacity
to hold us all within its crimson chamber

©SpiritLed 2014


1 Comment

Heart of the Matter

Just one more day
in the grind, in the bind,
and the voice in your mind
seems to whisper,
“Never let go”

Try as you may,
you can’t rest in one place,
your heart seems to wander
no matter how still your
feet stay

Late, late at night
the process unfolds,
it flows and it grows
through fingers and toes
‘til it reaches the heart
of the matter

The blank page inside you
longs to be written
your heart spills its ink
on the landscape
of life

Through all of your foibles,
your fallacies and farces,
the path in your heart is still
inky and wet

Freshly drawn, slightly smudged,
but still good as new
patiently, quietly nudging you
home

©SpiritLed 2014


5 Comments

Echoes of Tomorrow’s Past

In your tear-filled rage
of not deserving,
time and space
collide with the moon
in your heart,
guide, seek,
draw you to the edge,
invite you
to cast your sorrows,
your excuses,
into the Unknown,
nothing more than
echoes of tomorrows past

©SpiritLed 2014
http//:wp.me/p2Ptur-6p


1 Comment

Break the Silence While You Can………………

A Hospice room Times upA Hospice Room just vacated. The tick tok of the wall clock, the labored breathing through the night came to a sudden, gasp, shudder and then stillness. Then you might wish you would have said…………………   Say it now!

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