There is something about a blank canvas, a blank paper, a lump of clay far horizons that draws you lets you dream.
To focus and pour your entire being— onto a dot, a letter, a dimple on a clod of clay, a swirl of a color, a music note across the waters, or a rising sculpture to the sky. To spin stories that chart the stars and celestials or twirl to the rhythm of the reeds.
These fields were meant to be walked the tall stalks to be brushed against the sighs of unfurling flowers caressed the roaring winds deafening, the peals of the stars tinkling into twilight gazed upon, the drumbeats of rolling clouds to beat with, the dance of the deep trees in creaky waves erupting from the Heart to be heard by a listening ear.
All these beautiful notes gracing the air Why not grace them with my full presence? To clap in delight to their wondrous dance! Better yet hold their branches and dance a ring!
We say fear is pervasive like cancer slow and insidious but love says give me only an instant to burn through just the same like wildfire scorching through the shadow of Separation casted by fear lighting up brazier after brazier along the Great Wall ablaze in sun rising glory not for a warning but a call to arms to carry the torches of Gods and Goddesses dressed in bones and skin in shared humanity to the heavens.
How long must we stay meek under our withering gaze? How long must we grind under our iron fist? How long must we burn at the stake for the cries of our soul? How long must we bleed till we are satiated in the blood of those unborn?
Why have we come to the point of watching children rain down from the skies? Why does a savior call forth his valiant shield only to smash it down crunching the fingers clutching an ember of hope? Why have we torn apart these lands looting and pillaging in fear of lacking?
Oh, the world of laws and lines of order and ownership of indisputable authority of separation and prejudice.
Who decreed these words set in stone? Who put us on the pedestal to dole out justice or judgement? When it’s our vulnerable selves on trial.
Why must we need a book to teach us to be human? Why must goodness be in the form of deeds and not from our inherent nature? Are we so distrustful of our nature that we must create our chains never to be unlocked?
Oh, kinskins! flesh of Nature embrace as it has the underworld of vermin and flesh eating worms and burst forth Roses! Marigolds! and Daisies! Hoist your colors from the dirt!
Oh, Mud Child of Earth! There is a terrible price for our silence and meekness for molding too long into the world of Order. So wake up, wake up sing true for the Earth that lost her voice, beat your chest along with her upheaval, Her cries and quakes!
Come forth, fellow Earth dwellers! In this point of space and time we are here together only for a breath in the grand scheme of time, gazing at the same skies the same stars the same stories to be histories.
So sing a choir with our rhythmic breathing at one here and now be free in trust and tread gently in wonderment.
There’s a maiden weeping tonight alone in the dark none see the tears rolling downher cold cheeks but the Moon, pretending to hide behind the clouds shining upon her tears whispering, ‘My child dear, Why do you cry?’ She shakes a sob of fear of hurt and hate of loneliness, worthlessness of sorrow in living.
The Moon dances into view and plays shadows on her window sill a story of how she is the Queen of a hidden world.
Where all that is tremble in joy for her very smile for her voice. How dearly she is loved just as she doesunbeknownst to her.
The maiden weeps blinded by her tears to the thick flow of love shining down upon her crown.
To read everything there is to read— The swell of your cheeks in a hidden smile. Your wordstumbling over my tongue tasting more than you reveal. The subtle movement of your brows. What the hem of your dress whispers in your wake.
What a falling leaf spinning dizzy unto the Earth says. What the wind laughing playfully ruffling my hair carouses. What the sunlight breaking apart in the ripple of a lake squeals. What the dragonfly that whizzes and pauses a drift sees. What the blushing night bride to the day groom sighs as she creeps over to him for that long awaited kiss. A fleeting moment so cherished.
Let me read you. Read your landscape, your wayward weathers.
Let me see only You And let it be A never-ending read.
Sharing one piece by writer’s choice for the dVerse Open link Night 293 a virtual pub for poets around the world Hosted by Lisa.
With every misstep, misdeed or misword, every missed gesture or missed word, the bed of thorns like sharp talons grow ever sharper Thicker gnarled bramblesknotted, twisted around me staked into my skin crucified in perpetual guilt wishing to disappear..
How the knots would fall away when there is Nothing to hold on to.
My eyes look for intimacy a yearning for a soft touch an answer to my eyes’ imploring gaze searching for the warmth beckoning like a window lit in gold against the night curtains fluttering ..calling me calling me.. towards an undying hearth where I can be intoxicated in warmth.