A Vigil of Love (complete.)

•Beloved, you hold me and whisper, “Be Loved.” I hear your words and hold them in my heart.• You set a spark within my soul. Your radiance shimmers the shadow spaces.• When I am thirsty, you rain abundance. When I am weak, you pour grace.• You weave a fresh tale of hope. A yarn that lifts the lost and lonely.An epic of peace and justice. I hear my story in your words.• You don’t give up on me. You trek alongside on sunny days and moonlit nights. Where others have walked away, you remain.• I find you under the quiet…

A Shower of Prayer

Prayer peeks her eyes toward the sun,head tilts sidewaysinhales what is —No more, no less She is love draped with angst.A myriad of concernsweaves through her —a pleada wisha hope Prayer is presenceto what is here, now She is an infant held in the bosom of a new mother —an eye gazea reflective pausea rock to and fro Prayer is expressionof all that bears like lead She barrels in as —a swashbuckling piratea shoulder shaking widowa mud puddle splash She makes no apology for how she arrives.She is fully herself —Take her or leave her. She is wide strokes of…

Open to Possibility

Look at your toes.They are thereto take you acrossthe limen, the silentthreshold that urgesyou into the mist of childlike wonder. Do you see the waythe hawk glides through the blue expanse,keen to her senses,swoops down tograb her feast,trusts she will findwhat she needs? What about you?Do you doubt your senses*? (why?) You too, have intuition,a knowingthat guides yourinner drum.Lean in, listen.Touch the heartof the Spirit. As your finger tremblesto reach her reverent truth,don’t be blinded whenbeams of goldpour upon you. Instead,open yourself to possibility —this gold is for you,a shine that fallsupon your crown,and movesinto the starlit dusk around you,…

Invisible Magic

The first time I came home with a two feet by three feet canvas, I believed I wouldn’t be able to paint this large. Did I have it in me? What is “it” anyways? White-washed canvas taunted. Blank space stared back with beady eyes. Who was I to do this? Who was I to paint? All the old stories came sweeping in: Art is a luxury Isn’t there something better to spend time on? How is change made with the stroke of a brush? Then, I heard from the depth of my being Do not be afraid. Do it anyway….

Kindred Spirits Forever!

Dear friends, Thank you for following me and reading my posts. Each year, I take a break around this time to give myself a bit of a Sabbath. I’ll be back sometime in July with more creative poetry. Blessings to you this day. Ally One scrumptious morning, a dawn of rose-colored sun and wildflowers popping, Curiosity and Imagination sat togetheron a rainbow quilt sipping their teawhile a light rain drizzled. They chattered onabout all things sparkly,eating their way throughgreen veggies and rich chocolatenot concerned with the time of dayor the conditions of weather. They loved to ask each other questionsbecause…