SuziCate's Musings

Posts tagged ‘Jingle Poetry Potluck’

A Dream Of Possibility

I dream a dream

Where time is softened

By clouds of truth

Where love trickles

Like pure mountain springs

And infinite beauty

Is measured in hearts

I dream a dream

Where time is not hurried

But whispers in grace

Where peace is a staple

Of our daily intake

And forgiveness is not doled

Out on a conditional basis

I dream a dream

Where happiness can run

Fast and free like the wind

Where the tears of earth

Will cleanse all wrongs

And love’s tender kiss

Will touch us all

I dream a dream

 

 Prompt is Dreams, Visions, and Reveries…

A Little Bit Of The Natural World

An Autumn Song

 I am the crisp breeze

that splatters your soul

with myriad hues of scarlet and gold.

 

I am a cantata of leaves

that serenade and cajole

with words unspoken, secrets untold.

 

I am the pitter and patter

of soft falling rain

upon the brown decaying ground.

 

I am the heart of the matter,

the joy and pain

of all this green, life once found.

 

I am past summer’s end;

not quite winter’s death,

but life’s chosen state of rest.

 

I am the gentle bend

of that exhilarating breath

reaching nature’s vibrant crest.

 

I beckon you to wait and see

for all that is to come and be

 

This poem is featured at Jingles Poetry Potluck today. Prompt is Nature: Plants, Creatures, and the Cosmos.

Purpose

 Illuminated by starry sky

Grounded by grass at my feet

I can’t help but wonder why

The truth of nature is discreet

 

I often try to outrun the wind

Or prophesy age by rings of trees

But I always end where I begin

for not all is measured in degrees

 

 I swim the rivers wide and deep

And leave my tracks in ivory snow

I scribble in the sand when I sleep

And when I wake I still don’t know

 

 I hear it not in faint whispers in wind

Nor in coyote howl or lion roar

I look high and low, round every bend

Nor do I salvage it in ancestral lore

 

 Brown plume of ash and rising steam

That dusted forth upon the dawn of time

Has not fossilized enough for me to glean

The answers I await, that one cosmic sign

 

And so I continue to wonder why I am here

I’ll stretch and search until the flames die down,

Until the tingling of my soul is no longer fear,

Until the intention of my being has been found

 

 So I pause between milky way and milky weed

anticipating alignment and synchronicity that say

It is right here, all that you ever want or need,

                       resting in every moment between dusk and rising day

 It slumbers within mountains, rivers, and plains

It is the sacred secret that vibrates in every bone

Beneath all that’s left of time’s charred remains,

The answer lurks, an ancient hymn written in stone

Wonderment

 

Creator of the soil, the rock, and the tree

Maker of water, earth, wind, and fire

All that I can taste, touch, feel, and see

All that has been and will come to transpire

 

Father of the mountains and the sea

You painted the valleys, rivers, and caves

Oh, the glory and wonder of your majesty

And the timeless echoes your landscape paves

 

Lord of the forest and the cloud-scattered sky

We know that you watch over us from above

And the only answer to the question of why

Is that we see the colors of your great love

 

Blessed with Your miracles and love divine

We know the power in the sweep of Your hand

As we revel in the intricacies of Your design

And we bask in the beauty of this wonderland

 

Was not magic nor wizardry but your plan

Miracles and wonder within your touch

And the grace that you have given man

All because you love us this much

Prompt is “Magic, Miracles, Wonder, & Wizardry”.

From Where I Stand

From Where I Stand

In this space that is mine

I am called out of myself

A challenge to transcend boundaries

One that leaves you behind

To invent your own purpose

Though I am surrounded by clouds

You are my shadow

I feel your presence

I see you in the tangible signs

You leave behind

My breath is moist and deep

As I let go of expectations

To remain at peace

My truth is not your truth

Nor should it be your doctrine

For you should know

A wind that rips the heart

Can surely sever the soul

And taking the saliva

From another’s mouth

Will never fill your emptiness

No matter that you consume

You must be able to digest

To ever be satisfied

When freedom is confined by shadows

It is almost meaningless

And words are incomprehensible

When they come from that sacred place

That does not belong to you

Though you are within my landscape

I can not be your bridge

Nor can I soothe your storms

While riding out the furies of my own

I find a deeper resolution

As I scatter your ashes

Do not think I abandoned you

I was never yours

I have no need for validation

Because I know I am

However, I wonder

If I were to be born again

When I turned around

Would you still be there

“Moods, Feelings, and Emotions” – this piece was originally published in my other blog.

A Childhood Home Revisited

Once upon a time there was a grand estate

Built for the plant manager in that day

And through the years, as is one’s fate

The luster and prestige time wore away

 

The proper and regal style of Queen Anne

With three porches and gabled roof of slate

Gave way to hide and seek and kick the can

With various occupants from 1890 to date

 

Intricate carved mantles and floors of wood

Marble counters and bedroom window seats

All the years of growing up, bad and good

And everything in between that life repeats

 

Once a home to Doc and Skeleton Joe

With treasures hidden in attic walls

And stories no one will ever know

And spookiness of creaks and calls

 

Daffodil lined sidewalk made of soapstone

That scraped knees and absorbed tears

And many hours one sat there all alone

Spilling the secrets of private teenage years

 

A parented-fortress for those who lived inside

Iron guarded fortress for those who wanted in

For each generation, a new set of rules to abide

A place for living, loving, and laughter to begin

 

Just a building into a home people made

A place for a family to convene and rest

Little by little, the pieces begin to fade

No lilacs nor daffodils survived time’s test

 

Now a monument of memories childhood

A reflection of us forging through the years

And hanging on to values for which we stood

A collection of our blood, sweat, and tears

****This is my childhood home up until about age ten. I visited it as an adult. I must say things look quite different through an adults eyes…not nearly as such from the memory of a child. things no longer seemed as large or scary. I can can only wonder how much of my memory is real and how much is imagined.

Monday’s Poetry Potluck theme: “Fortresses, Buildings, and Monuments”

When Love Speaks

Love speaks an eternal language

In utterances of heart and soul

In a glow of silence

It lifts and holds

A flame that permeates

Bone and tissue

It rises on wings

To heavenly terrain

And gently graces

The tears of memory

Love rejoices with truth

And speaks not in vain

But lives quietly within

Love heals the spirit

And conquers worlds unknown

Love promises unity

Clasping the hands of time

Love is gentle and kind

Without anger or resentment

When love speaks

One needs no ears

To hear it’s words

That warm from the inside out

And hold us in the palm of it’s hand

Love speaks a universal language

As old as dirt itself

And stronger than ocean waves

It will bend in the wind but not break

Loves speaks in pulses

Vital to existence

When love speaks

All understand

Poetry Potluck entry for theme “Love and Romance”

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