poetry for a new epoch

Posts tagged ‘spiritual’

A Call to Alms

eternity drum


Author: kozmikfish
Creative Commons Licence


Weeping Willow

My heart leaps up beyond the wishing excursions
of Summer when I see you standing alone in the
solitude of your ancestor glade, with tender tears
you weep to the tempo of this land’s rural architecture,
Weeping Willow, your beauty is a memory too green
to stay, too rare to last beyond this season’s late
sensitive spurs, still your spirit is embalmed in
rustic strength as your ageless roots drink the
milk from Gaia’s deep bosom, it rushes through you
-amber hot and amber cool-but as I look at you
content in your simple living I am left to wonder,
Weeping Willow, why does your sweeping leaves hang
down like tears, forsakened to this weary low,
weeping, ever weeping, why do you weep so, Willow?

Is it because you’re crying for the child who once
played among the timber sighs of your cradle branches,
but has now abandoned such blithful fare with
Summer’s hot and juicy end? If this is the reason
for your grieving then cease your perennial fears,
though the child is gone and though you may think
his laughter and the recess of fun he shared under
your protective boughs were but fond illusions,
falling onto your reprieve of Silence like the
falling Autumn leaves…his spirit remains behind
leisurely light and free, and the laughter that
has died into a bittersweet memorial of what was
will echo among the pretty lapses of your ivy tresses,
and even if he doesn’t return with the slow-evolving
of the Seasons’ tide his childhood shade will stay
to mingle with yours, and the weeping spray of your
leaves will remember as they shed trinkets of pleasures
now pale, vanishing with the delta Dusk, and I will
remember as I gaze at you, Willow, my fond friend.


Author: Jewel MoonSilver Knight

© Jewel MoonSilver Knight – All rights reserved. Full restrictions apply.

September 11-13, 2002

A Voice That Sounds Like You

These cliffs, within the mists they dream
praying to the wind, they sing
waves come and go on an eternal swing
longing, I miss their touch, so much it aches

This is one strange, Spring… filled with tricks and magic
both Winter and Summer beside my wing
strand golden along the sand, I stand
waiting for a Sun that doesn’t come

I’m cursed… with foreseen memories
a lone shell wrecked ashore
waking the Moon and the Stars
the Night arrives, daring me with its dark light

Drifting the horizon, the Albatross stares
watching my departure…it screams, as
I am leaving the dunes never to return
I swear it’s calling my name with its older voice

a voice that sounds like you…


Author: Kay March
Creative Commons License

Curious Game

Frigid stone
in place of brain
Am I able to face
day again?

Atone defeated years.
Replace mute tears
with some stable thing,
give that thing a name.

Not just weighted clay;
that deep heart seated
and unstated shame,
but to trust my part
and play this curious game
in a more fluid, less rigid way.


Author: kozmikfish
Creative Commons Licence


Daughter Of Ancient Gods

I am a wishing well
Hiding dream’s murkiest depths
Born of winter’s pure breath
On drifter’s wrinkled face

A mayfly’s memory
Of warm June afternoons
Those will not ever come
Or vanished much too soon

I am a pearl in mud
A diamond in the dirt
The storm-clock ticking fast
A song you’ve never heard

High-priestess from the past
Caring for gods’ delight
Vow quietly pronounced
In temple of the night

I am a raven’s claw
Spirit you’ll hardly tame
A Vestal warrior
Healing wounds with a flame

Silent dove’s crying eye
Hurts me more than a sword
Stars, mist and foliage
Build my eternal fort.


Author: Gabriela
Creative Commons Licence

Still Waters

Still waters
a clear grace of mirror eyes
dripping tears as rain
leaving rainbow reflections on the plain
Nature reveals herself… everything
a quiet secrecy, unfolding
for you and me

Still waters
where shadow mists keep longing
in the afternoon falling
there is a deep sound, calling
wild roses attending
Paradise Lost, last its dissolving
tracking your face for me

Still waters
the path is full with stardust
entwined memories of ancient forests
your drawings on the wall
they are the sky
when I’m lying on the ground
dreaming of you and me

Still waters
the wolves disturb its silence
with their solitary presence, singing
and the Moon is shining,
hiding behind the sun
a silver crimson growing,
greeting you and me

Author: Kay March
Creative Commons License

Where the world makes sense

I let my head on this pillow, everytime I sink
Where all the heavy thoughts rest and the heart sings
Between the world’s pain and my agony, there is a place.

I close the eyes, I breathe, I rise and I’m there again
I’m the same child again, chasing the summer breeze
Carrying all the colorful dreams on my shoulders
With eyes as big as the waves, and a heart where birds nest
There, where every butterfly takes colors from my palms
And the thirsty deers come drink from my spring
There where the world made sense.

I’m there, and the restless mind is home for peace
When you told me joy had features and a face, my face
I touch the sandy beach, and one heart is never enough
I eat from every daisy in the white field, I drink the morning dew
I cover my cold skin with sunlight and sunflowers petals.

Every now and then, I let my head sink, I let the world sink
I go back where I can hug the sky and walk on foamy clouds
Where I can be a little bird, that small daisy in a white field
There, where mercy is rain and the world makes sense.

Author: Saida BUL.
Creative Commons Licence