Starry-eyed shores

Day twenty six….

a starry-eyed child

“You were born a child of light’s wonderful secret— you return to the beauty you have always been.”
― AberjhaniVisions of a Skylark Dressed in Black

The air feels like remembrance,
on shimmering sands
of recall.
Inhaling childhood visions,
my senses are enthralled.

Beneath the azure firmament
where squealing gannets glide,
a profusion of pungent seaweed
drifts with the tide.

I’m transported back in time,
to a stop-over in my dreams,
as I gaze at taupe sand dunes,
gently moving in the breeze…

In a caravan of promise, where time stood still,
beyond waves that echoed,
I couldn’t get my fill,
of the warm salty ocean,
and the balmy sea air.
Surging through the breakers,
bliss beyond compare.

The taste of vanilla ice cream,
swirling on my tongue,
savouring sweet confections,
when I was very young!

And the blazing sun sparkled,
touching my pasty skin,
I soaked up the radiance,
of belonging to my kin.

At night swells rumbled,
as if the ocean was at our door
and the distant cosmos sparkled
on starry-eyed shores.
I felt so alive,
in an illustrated feeling,
holiday narratives,
and the innocence of being!


poetry month


In my little town…

Day twelve…

hope 2

My eyes are caught by misty dunes, patched with bottle green shrubbery. Rose-colored hues drift above dreamy forests on the liquid skyline. A loud but distant rumble crashes into purposeful silence, the ocean calls. Coherent skies hang, and ashen clouds smudge the cyan haze.

I amble along a tree-lined avenue, passing a medley of quiet abodes, and dissolve into the bliss of outdoor senses. Familiar faces gesture friendly greetings, passersby of small town pleasantries. A dog barks hello, behind fenced longing, a bristling coat of anticipation.

Unexpectedly, small birds move in the thick undergrowth, chirping announcements in flashes of red and yellow. Guinea fowls scratch the dirt in noisy swirls of excitement. The tarmac meanders, and flows into inviting directions. I’m taken down to the surprise of soft sands and calm waters. Rowboats snuggle, and mingle with the muddy shoreline. Ducks float on reflections of shimmering transparency, leaving delicate ripples in their wake. A cranky seagull bellows overhead, and startles me.  Together we watch his catch swim away, into tomorrow’s deepest blue.

nature’s rhapsody
extravagant sensations
of unspoilt vistas

poetry month


Day Eight……

a wool gatherer

in the afternoon,
when chortling winds,
drift on the dunes.
Fireflies glow in lyrical tunes,
conversing with
the tenuous moon.

Indistinct shadows,
with sluggish stares,
and grave emotions of solar flares.
Waylaid by dense
and unearthly prayers,
I pitched my dream,
in the blue-gray air.

Land of nod,
when faint breath
is high,
songs of wool-gathering and lullabies.
I dreamed of floating in mackerel skies,
on winged movements,
in florescent dye.

When I awoke in muffled light,
the tide deciphered,
where mysterious beings
on giddy flight,
fringed my delirium,
of whimsical night.


poetry month

Whimsicle dreamer…

Day Two of Na/GloPoWriM..
“Not sure what i’m doing, just living in the moment, and trying to fulfill the next prompt”

lizzy and i

“i thought you were so beautiful
a goddess in my sight
i wanted to be like you
so talented and so bright”

“you were young, my darling
with stars in your eyes
a whimsical dreamer
unaccustomed to lies”

“i compared myself to you
and never knew my own worth
i failed in the world’s eyes
and bitterly lamented my birth”

“my darling, you are perfect
resembling the Divine
you’re gifted and gentle
transcendent and undefined”

“and when I made the Earth, I had already imagined your likeness!”


poetry month

A Praying Mantis at my door

“May you experience each day as a sacred gift woven around the heart of wonder.”
― John O’DonohueEternal Echoes: Celtic Reflections on Our Yearning to Belong

praying mantis

A praying mantis at my door,
I can’t ignore.

I look for signs
indications that you are near.

And even though,
I swish him out,
he stares at me,
there is no doubt,
perhaps he’s here,
just to say,
“everything will be okay”.

He’s part of the cosmic stream,
a messenger on sacred beams.

In mystical times,
I just sense,
cherished gifts of recompense.

A porthole opens to give me bliss,
a dulcet moment,
a sacred kiss.

My praying mantis,
dressed in green,
quietly heralds the unseen…..

Image courtesy of PixaBay

Resonate Love

Blessed be those who looked for you
and found you, their kind hands
urgent to open a blue window
in the gray wall formed around you.
― John O’DonohueTo Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Blessings

blue window

Can the glory of a person’s life shine
in their accomplishments or in their pain?
That if a sacrificial death brought just one person to life,
and they came to know the immeasurable love of God,
it would be worth it.

Pain makes us stare down at our own soul’s iniquity
and burn it with a cleansing fire,
to be replaced by such beauty,
seen far and wide
by the eyes of a glorious Universe.
The bitter fruit that would poison our breath
becomes sweet ambrosia in the face of such suffering.

That when that clock on the wall ticks
our life away in motionless seconds,
we see beyond the veil of our accomplishments
and the paraphernalia we hoard in dusty corridors.
We reach out to the compassionate care of others
and crack open the hard crust around our hearts.
We see a light emanate deep within us,
placed there before time
by the Divine,
so that we may learn to live our days in resplendent love
with eyes that see the downcast and the vagrant.

Oh mournful days will come
and we will have to discard those tactile things
that cover our hearts.
Then we will be compelled to look into something
other than our vanity or our egos.
We will see the green hills beyond our earthly home
where no accomplishments or attachments go,
and we will find rest there
among the verdant fields.

And when we see that place in our hearts
that holds such infinite love,
we will believe that we have been set free.
We will believe that the stars shine just for us
and the forests breath to keep us alive,
and that the multitudes of heaven know us by our name.

That when we lay our lives down in sacrifice,
eyes would open
and wounds would instantly heal.
Each one will hold a space forever in their hearts for us.

Let our hearts be cracked wide open,
be it by great sorrow or great love,
and hold the darkness of this void for a moment
and pray that our Higher Power will transform us into love.
That our hearts of stone may turn to hearts of flesh
and say out loud that pain expressed is a beautiful thing.
To soar again on heights of belonging
and bring those wounded beings back to acceptance
and enfold them in our arms
and listen with ears of affection
to their afflictions,
that we could be part of this transfiguration!

Pain can transform continents
and the blood of the innocent
has never flowed for nothing,
it flows to free the souls of captives
held in deadlock,
their wounds not visible to the naked eye.

And when death knocks at your heart,
welcome its teaching and say to it come in,
and let it make you radiate with love.
Let your heart of flesh pound in your chest,
and chime with benevolence,
so that all the Universe will resonate with the sound of your love.
Let the hard places around your heart be burnt away.
Live your life as best you can
to alleviate the suffering of your fellow man.
This unfriendly world has dragged so many into deep despair.

And when you breathe your last breath,
and you begin to sing His name,
you will be remembered not for selfish gain
but for the free flow of a generous heart
where love always had its home.