Keep showing up….

“Courage starts with showing up and letting ourselves be seen.”
― Brené Brown

From quagmires of pity, I will emerge,
silent revelations,
petitions are heard.

A wretched exile,
on uninhabitable shores,
forsaken locations,
may my soul be restored!

Can I brave the affliction
that has submerged my being,
and find other directions, with authentic meaning?

They say I have courage,
but I feel
somewhat weak,
on dark and dismal days,
I’m overwhelmed and bleak!

When I can’t see
the wood,
for the majestic trees,
I surrender my fears,
and fall to my knees

I will keep showing up and let myself be seen,
in transformed aspects
of endowments serene…

©AllysoAlly2018

Interlude

“Put your thoughts to sleep,
do not let them cast a shadow
over the moon of your heart.
Let go of thinking.”
― Jalaluddin Mevlana Rumi 

is madness a state where all hope seems lost?
succumbing to notions,
not counting the cost!

invasive thinking in the deep of the night,
unreachable dreams,
evading the light!

the moon appears,
with its consoling glow,

and brightness caresses,
my darkened pillow.

in a veil of stillness,
the night birds call,
and shadows flicker
on indistinct walls!

agents of solace,
lure me
back from the brink,
from murky impressions,
of what I might think!

i exist in the interlude, where the moon is still bright,
and allow these imaginings to recede from my sight….

©AllysoAlly2018

Six word Story

tranquility falls on a transparent lagoon

Dandelions of promise

“Sometimes when you’re in a dark place you think you’ve been buried, but you’ve actually been planted.”
― Christine Caine

In fields of dandelions,
I let my wishes fly.
Seedlings of hopefulness, drifting in the skies.

Wafting on currents, of sanguine dreams,
landing in the hollow,
of gracious ravines.

Lingering in faith,
they forage for a home,
scattering on the dark earth, beneath gentle loam.

They germinate with tenderness,
cherished by the sun,
dandelions of promise,
regeneration has begun……

©AllysoAlly2018
Image courtesy of Pixabay

Plunged into darkness, but finding light..

“The quickest way for anyone to reach the sun and the light of day is not to run west, chasing after the setting sun, but to head east, plunging into the darkness until one comes to the sunrise.”
― Gerald L. Sittser, A Grace Disguised: How the Soul Grows through Loss

She went to crypts of sorrow,
and when she found him there,
a morass of grief
seized her,
and took her to its lair!

She beheld intense darkness
and encountered merciless tides,
lost in forgotten catacombs,
where
apparitions reside!

When obscurity
threatened,
and beguiled her nightmares,
her prayers had no form
in this limbo
of despair!

The light that she envisaged,
at the end of
unbearable pain,
was more glorious
than she imagined.
and all that love contained!

The epilogue to grief,
and everything in-between
is eclipsed
by signs and wonders,
of mysteries unseen!

©AllysoAlly2018

Prelude to Autumn

Misty preludes,
the reviews are in.
Fall’s overture
is wearing thin.

Summer’s frolic
is dwindling fast;
flowers sigh,
and appear downcast.
Autumn peeps,
and mists converge,
on grey horizons,
the call is heard!

Cooler breezes,
stir falling leaves;
these preambles,
do as they please!

Warmer days,
have not yet passed,
though fall’s attitude,
is being forecast!

Harbingers of what’s to come,
foretelling rains,
and a distant sun!

Birds tarry with brighter days,
their milieu
and matinees,
are sprinkled with songs of Fall,
while the summer sun,
is acting small!

P.S.  Summer gigs have not concluded,
they’re being upstaged,
and convoluted!

©AllysoAlly2018

Blessed are the peacemakers

“The planet does not need more successful people. The planet desperately needs more peacemakers, healers, restorers, storytellers and lovers of all kinds.
-Dalai Lama”

Blessed are the meek,
for they shall inherit the earth,
in halls
of forbearance,
their voice will be heard!

Above the din of the warmonger,
eating the bile of death,
inhabiting
stockpiles,
of repugnant wealth!

When innocent blood is spilled,
on forsaken lands,
is this the sacrifice,
that iniquity
demands?

Blessed are the peacemakers,
for they are called
children of the Lord,
arbitrators of the voiceless,
in a whole Earth restored!

©AllysoAlly2018

When noise subsides

“Only if we are still enough inside and the noise of thinking subsides can we become aware that there is a hidden harmony here, a sacredness, a higher order in which everything has its perfect place and could not be other than what it is and the way it is.”
― Eckhart Tolle, A New Earth: Create a Better Life

The luminescence of grace is more irresistible than can be imagined,
and the fragrance of love
transfigures grievous wounds.

On nights when all seems lost and ships have sailed
into dark oblivion,
what remains among the graveyard of broken dreams
where scarecrows feast
on the last fragments of hope?

An abiding light glows
within the heart,
where suffering has been exposed!

In the shadows
a quaking creature with a heart of flesh,
unharmed,
belongs to the unfolding vastness.

Even tidal waves of grief cannot swallow
the infinite mercy of the Divine.

Alive in fields of consciousness,
perspectives becomes clear
and the veil is lifted
on a glorious expanse of earth and sky.

Tall trees reach our and touch the void
where insufficient dreams have flown.
The devotion of the soft earth
is like an endowment of belonging underfoot!

To lie in pastures evergreen,
and sup on feasts of contentment,
where cool resevoirs
purge the bitter taste
of affliction!

The song of the birds compels the listener
to lay his burdens down,
and sing the song of the New Earth!

©AllysoAlly2018