Thine escort... Thy honor, grants passage to thee
Opening the gate, her land to see.
I bid thee welcome. Enter my land
Which opens its heart, when held in thine hand.
Behold the view at rainbow's end.
Sparkling fairy dust beg spirits to mend.
Crystal blue streams, from mountains fall
To quench thy thirst, and vest youth's call.
If thou be weak, my gardens delight
To offer their bounty, and deliver thee might.
The massive oak grants shelter by day,
To dew sprinkled violets, wherein fairies play.
Their giggled laughter floats on the breeze
Creating soft music, Thine heart to please.
But, disturb not the dove, in silence to wait;
The touch of an angel, who summons her fate.
A gentle spirit waits in the night
For the touch of her angel adorned in light.
Tender yearnings her heart emits
Longing for the angel, beside her to sit.
Fireflies greetings accompany her wait.
As she searches the darkness, it grows very late.
From the distance the flutter of wings drawing near
Spark the vision of one who has grown ever dear.
Compelled by emotions the dove must go
From her cloak of the shadows, to the moonbeams' glow
To sit with her angel, embraced in his love
In a dreamland where fireflies hover above.
This land, untouched by time it seems
Allows her spirit to glisten with dreams;
Dreams of a oneness secured in his wings
Dreams of such beauty, her heart now sings
A song of desire, compassion, and love
Floating softly through darkness, it exposes the dove.
Creature of prey, talons drawn in the night
Dives toward her song in swiftest flight.
The aim of the talons are true.
So, the reaper awaits his due.
A drift of snow now blankets the dove
As her soul in it's journey soars high above
To a beautiful land, which shines like the sun
To dance with her angel... her journey now done.
Sometimes in twilight
lavender fingers veil navy skies.
Heaven's music sighs to my heart
and I feel your touch so close
sleeping as a babe
held within my essence.
Clouds unbearably gray
cotton my throat
and I utter not a sound
my air
swallowed by softness.
All I see
all I feel
held by the hand
of this sleeping babe
in the fiery moon
of my heart.
Eagle wings soar
adrift on crisp ancient winds
chanting past lives’ clarity
color stroking layers of rugged tradition
over pottery baked horizons.
Buckskin voices echo soulful thanks
to mother earth.
