Memory of Sky

It’s dark outside ~
stars are woven in sky, so if we can still our minds just enough, our heart is heard.
Liquid like rain falling from the sky,
onto the trees sliding closer to rocky precipice grooved by memories.
Once shared twice till thrice cared,
while this heart of the sky replenishes her cauldron.
From lands far away and near,
like a lucid inhale in slow motion.
We see as streams in an transparent pallet colouring sky,
butterflies devour a secret place,
when a steady rain awakens the colour of earth.
Where their wings translucent glisten like raindrops shed,
quivering wings silken cupping the canopy ribboning,
which release an acorn like an emerald polished stone,
with no thought but rain sliding down a memory of sky.

4 – 11 – 14

~ So Quiet ~

So quiet under the stars , always under a variable night, muffled warm under such a stillness.
Yet a breath can be seen rising disappearing
then taken by possibilities of the edge star of a constellation
which on a clear evening would instill an ancient myth.
So quiet under the unseen stars, night after night
a quiet touch in the marrow.
A fireplace smokes a tendril which finds the ceiling grey night.
So quiet under the stars, a heart can be heard,
possible stars allow the stillness piercing through.
Oh so much stillness, listens to your thoughts that ride a slow wind that comes from where you remember the pole star resides. Always under a variable sky, standing upon this earth.
There is a part of mankind that landed on a comet so quiet above these unseen stars.

11 – 15 – 14

Sweet One

Sweet dreams and wake refreshed and closer to your essence . gather the love that hovers within your sight
and little stones that call your name.
Keep the earth quenched and the sky full of trees ,
always walk as if your flying
and stop near vast expanses of moving waters .
Take a seldom sit under a dreaming tree
and wait till night becomes from day, absorb each star in the night
and dream another earth as she listens to your heart beat .
For she exhales with you to the stars
and beckons this twilight breeze, a kindred wish.
Sweet one ~ sweet dreams and rest under the tree of life .

10 – 30 – 14

Before a breath Quenches

A person that sets themself in the center of the circle, becomes the reflection of mother earth, and is watched very closely by spirit.
When; yes when memories string together.
Pollen dropped at the entrance of the hive, sweet full colours lay. Bowl of water brought to my lips, sighed into my thoughts, the inner pictures of life that quenched their bodies and swam between oceans dream. This bowl of water mirrors this sky while a pearlized scallop of a cloud reflects by. Take a deep steady inhale quenched in the moment .
This mornings waning moon sailed through starry shimmering winds,
catching breath meeting the rising sun. My hair tendril-ing to the voice of the spring leaves, in a hush deeply filling the between, understanding this beauty surrounding,
earth she hears my voice.
Horizontal halo of eastern midnight clouds, the blouse of sparkling constellations surround this scalloped cream between. For this late evening moon, casts her light behind, defining this scalloped wonder.
Kindred, connect the stars, intuitive the dream drawn,
while planets follow toward moon set.
This mornings Burnt Orange yoke of the sun rose flattened as described.
Seed white moon shimmering into the western horizon, feeling the mirror of last night turned the other way around .

Tonight before the sun twilight, young fresh Cedar Waxwings playing between live oaks filling their instinct, catching dinner in flite. Moon waning from full, always overhead birds fly, so silver grey amidst the occasional blue birds, each mask so outlined in pewter cloud cream, with head crest unfolding to the backlit setting sun, following their flit to the wisteria, spiraling this heart into space.
Early morning rain – light infilling senses dream – wind in thought caught quenched – wakened earthly pulse, other earth swallowed moist light with her table of souls, for she quietly remembers and combines senses into fruition an alchemy with light.
Circles in cirle the spiraling sol system, earth we know turns by counting the Big Dipper walk around Pole Star, the trees with emerging green say from the fallen winter branches, build the nest of spring colours.
“Cool glass of water please!” That which you drank today, filled the carved crystal goblets of the Pharaohs, and quenched the thirst of Jaguars, lapped from the bowl of jungle foliage.
” May I have a glass of water, With Ice Please. ”

Awaits a reflective sanctuary in Venus

That star waits,floating upon a vespertine wash of sky.
Some call to her after the sun goes below the horizon.
Sometimes a memory of a loon that floats upon an evening lake,
somewhere in a child’s memory call to me.
This star awaits, a venus chiseled from dreams,
yet remains bright as a beacon passed on through generations.
This star, this orb which captures forever, light washes ashore
becoming brighter as the veil of day is pulled back in a slow motion wave.
For I know she awaits the fullness of tonight’s Moon.
Waiting to tide her with this earth, insert a lucid dream the sleep that makes us human.
This star awaits, making my soul send a plea.
This star makes me sense the pull of earthly memories and wish an escape,
a place where the windows of paradise are seen in the eyes of another,
another whom calls the moon up just by riding earth.
Sometimes a memory of a Loon,
some times a though of a cloud,
sometimes a braided brush paints an empty thought
like a white canvass upon a vespertine evening.