The Alouette; Meeting the Bar

Victorian Scrap Art; Bing Images

Victorian Scrap Art; Bing Images

skylarks flying high
scatter dreams from sighs
catch them as they drift to earth
from all daydreams spun
choose the happy ones
of starlight, moon beams and mirth

sprites and elves play here
in streams crystal clear
fireflies glow like small green orbs
cast tiny shadows
of days long ago
captured in dim woodland garb

~~~~

numinous children
of indigo send
vibrations of empathy
for love’s benefit
transcendentalists
hold this planet preciously
 
riding the current
of energy, urgent
messages relayed along
cosmic connectors
sending protectors
to dwell among the earth’s throngs

I hope you will join with me at dVerse Poets Pub where I present The Alouette.  The doors will open at 3PM EST Thursday.

The Portal

Photo of pink depression era glass jar:  Bing Photos

Photo of pink depression era glass jar: Bing Photos

It came to me in
repeated dreams:
Keep them in a
contained portal
and when you
are in need
open it and
let them be
(come).
My wishes,
hopes and
yearnings
are held within
a pink, tinted jar,
ready and waiting
for happy beginnings.

Bjorn is back from his hiatus and hosts our Quadrille Monday at dVerse Poets…please join us!

Haibun Monday 2

KhalilGibranquote

My mind drifts in and out and flows around and about, switching directions on a whim, back to childhood, in between and then up to the present again. This play moves my emotions with it as if on a roller coaster ride. The sting of a hurt feeling from decades ago can be recreated through a memory that becomes dislodged by the smell of the apple pie that is cooking in my kitchen today. The contented joy I felt while mothering my newborns is a love-filled, treasured memory. Instantly I feel at calm ease when I reflect upon that time. But even this memory takes me from present time; it too a phantom.

Memories are powerful imprints within us. They can evoke times of joy, love, closeness, warmth, smiles or fear, panic, sorrow, regret and shame. To dwell on painful memories can hold us tight to the past and rob us of our life in the present. And interspersed with all those memories are the daydreams of my imaginings…both are fleeting wisps, gone with tomorrow.

echoes of the past
ghostly mirages at play
today let me live

Today is Haibun Monday at dVerse Poets. Bjorn and Hamish invite us to pick one of two quotes from Khalil Gibran that they have provided and write a haibun. The details are here:  http://dversepoets.com/2015/10/05/haibun-monday-2/

Baptismal Awakening

Here’s a dream I had many years ago when I was still married.  I started having all these dreams towards the end of our marriage that were very blatantly letting me know what I already knew was true about him.  I wrote many down because they stayed in my mind so vividly:

My husband and I had gone to this building where we were looking for postings on activities around the community.  It appeared to be a church.  Then, I found myself sweeping the floor in the room where we had entered.  There was a smaller room off of this main room and I went to sweep in there.  I saw three steps leading down into this area which reminded me of a baptismal room.  I decided to sweep down in the space below and as I go to jump down in it, I immediately realize that it is extremely deep and I will die if I fall all the way in.  So as I leap, I catch myself and am holding on with my arms while my toes are pressed tightly against the inside wall holding myself up.  I begin yelling for help–for my husband to come help me.  I yell and yell and he doesn’t come.  Finally, he appears and I say get some rope or something to get me out of here–I need your help.  Instead of helping me, he sits down by my head–where I’m desperately clutching onto the edge and he quietly (patronizingly) says to me– if you would just give it some thought you could figure out how to get out of this predicament.  I instantly felt this flash of anger and thought to myself–“fuck it” and with a great, heaving push I was able to pull myself to safety.  I then found myself at the top of the steps and my husband was holding me while I cried.  I was crying because I didn’t want anyone else to fall in there and feel the fear and helplessness that I had.  My feeling towards my husband was neutral.  I wasn’t comforted by his presence.

Entry for Monday Morning Writing Prompt-Dream Symbolism: http://liv2write2day.wordpress.com/2011/04/24/monday-morning-writing-prompt-dream-symbolism/

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