20 Lines A Day

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Sound of No Sound

Lost in thought, her mind
wanders to a younger day, when she
expertly walked the tightrope over joy and
pain, a misstep here and there, but
never completely losing herself in that
cauldron of self-awareness bubbling
below

Pain – it was not feared then, but
admired, on the weathered faces of
the elders, noting their wisdom and
grace, the simple way they brushed
her hair from her face, and kissed
her forehead, assuring her with their own
worry that there was none for her

But now she wonders where that
elder-wisdom has gone, and will it ever
find her, or if it’s even hers to long for,
the kiss of peace long ago washed from
her furrowed brow.

When did she stop trusting herself?
Was it the first time she rolled over in her
lover’s bed only to find he wasn’t there?
When she felt the sharp sensation of betrayal
from one she considered a friend?
When the sting of loss pierced her heart so
deeply she thought she would drown in the tears
she never cried?

In the stillness that is left she listens,
listens for anything that will convince her
she’s alive, and in that empty place, darkness
reverberates like a thousand universes swirling
around their suns, like the hum of angel wings,
like the breath of creation in her ears

Like all those who came before her
Like all who will ever come

The sound of no sound
bringing life, bringing light
resting in the goodness that rests
inside the stillness of her mind,
where she is whole

©SpiritLed 2014


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Birth Day

In a parlor plain and
solemn, a small crowd huddles
Tomorrow I celebrate
one more year, today
I attend my friend’s
final life celebration

Funerals produce in me
a subtle sense of asphyxiation
and I sit in the quiet chapel,
in this room full of acquaintances
and strangers, barely breathing
for fear I might explode
into unending tears

But the moon rising in my heart
speaks of fullness and cycles,
and creates in me a curious juxtaposition

and a shift happens, a veil lifts to reveal
awareness that death is life anew,
that as one celebrates birth
another now possesses a freedom
that earthly souls can only imagine

Rest in Peace, my friend,
and also my yesterday self,
for today we both start anew
and tomorrow as well,

fulfilled in the knowledge
that neither death nor birth
signify an end or a beginning

but rather each day is a new path
in our personal eternity,
one more step in the journey
of Divine life

© SpiritLed 2014


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Floating

The water has always given me peace. It’s been the greatest place for me to go to have instant gratification. Happiness. Regardless of it being a pool or an ocean, the joy I find from being in the water has helped me get through so many difficult times in my life.

I want to move.

I want to live somewhere where I can see it, the deep expanse of the ocean, the wave breaks and the foam. I want to be able to run on a sandy beach and straight into the water once I feel too hot.

Maybe, perhaps, once I finally leave here, this sorrowful place in my head, I will find my ocean.

My place of peace.

My happiness.


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The Feeling of Home

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Home is the place where I walk in the door, recognize the fragrances, smiles at the messes, savor the peace and feeling of security. When my family is with me, What I miss most about home, is simply home, itself.

Of course, coming home alone is a different story. The joy of beloved faces, sloppy kisses from kids and pets, and the “ahh” of taking off the uncomfortable shoes or clothes you’ve endured while you were away, all of these give home that all important feeling of belonging.

What strikes me most about my feelings for ‘home’ is thinking of the homeless. Thinking of not having that place to rest, not being able to go to the kitchen, open the curtains and fix some chai tea. Not flopping down in your favorite recliner, or taking a hot bath. I honestly believe that the best thing about home is simply HAVING ONE.


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14 Words

Compassion and respect,
both components of love,
and, yes, I see them in you.

Taking steps down peace paths
will change our world
in ways we can’t imagine.

You go out of your way
for me. I don’t know why.
Thank you.

Let’s open our eyes
to the possibilities for peace
when we look for goodness.

 


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Meditation with Cat, by Susan Dean Wessells

Contemplative
as a wizened nun
he nestles in my arms,
regarding his universe
with a contented sigh.

Mandalas of dust motes
morph new designs
while phantoms unseen
(by me)
draw his unblinking gaze.

Head tucked in
and upside down
he sleeps
(and softly snores).
I cradle him,
humbled
by his absolute trust.

A study in serenity,
he instructs me
in the zen of being.

“It seems if there is a cat in the house of a poet at least one poem will be generated extolling the feline. This is my de rigeur cat poem.”  – Susan Dean Wessells


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14 Words

My mother,
bringer of love,
taught me the important lessons.
O Mom, thank you.

Let me be a conduit
of love,
wiring the light to overcome black midnight.

I seek containers
into which to pour
gallons of love.
Hold out your cup.

Have you thought
that love is math?
Your heart, my heart–
the right answer.

I see grace in your eyes,
confidence in your step.
Come be my friend.

I prepare the coffee,
set out square plates,
bring cloth napkins
just for us.

Turn the lights low,
turn the world off.
Let us hear our own music.


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Metamorphosis

Gossamer veil before me sliver of light
peers furtively through trees that have seen a hundred years
absence of day with steps I place, now in sudden fear
not knowing of where I go or where I’ve been

disconsolate foot steps, crackle leaves beneath my feet
forest of deadened branches hang eerie, blackened sleep
who am I, where am I, behind or in front
cautiously tread direction lost steps to find myself

one foot wrong shall I be left in a world I do not want
one foot right will I find myself forgoing the life I’ve led
brush what my eyes before me see, start anew without the ink
trunks of deadness, branches hang life to them is lost

renew yourselves, birth new buds like I must do at life
banish cobwebs of my fears, eradicate self doubt
step into the daylight, know who you are and why
blackened forest take your leave, be reborn like I


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Peace………..coming slowly

Originally posted on Living and Lovin:

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As a new year begins for me alongside this stream I feel like the time is coming to share a few personal things with you.

No not that personal  well then again maybe.

You know insight, a reason for still being here.  I thought I could hide behind a few pretty pictures but a few have seen through my exterior and are behind me hiding but also know in time my story will come to light.  I am really writing a few books, I have the words all in my head now to make them come out the way you who write do.  Guess that is my fear that in telling a story  the reason for it gets lost in the wrong words as I am not a writer maybe more a story-teller, again hiding the real heartbreak.

So 35 years ago I was a month away from having my…

View original 885 more words


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SPRAY

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Spray

 

Not all days have waves such as this

Some days the are just sweet and lazy

It is days such as this though that bring me such bliss

The sky was such a beautiful Blue without a sign of being hazy.

 

I love the spray as it dances above the waves as if to hold still till I capture it

It seems to add to the beauty of this photo with all the froth of this crashing wave

It is here upon the hill I sit and wait till just the perfect moment click

Though I now know  it is really the peace I find at this special place full of powerful waves I simply crave.

 

 

 

 

 


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Fishermen’s Song

Gnarling fury,
Menacing wrath!

From Poseidon’s clutches
Deliver thy torn sail!

Warping whirlpool,
Growling gale!

Hear thy cry,
Wailing screams
Echoing – ing.

Winter’s splash
Strikes cold.

We
Await
The
Coming
Of
The
Peace

like it? I appreciate demand constructive criticism! >:)

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