Poetry delves deep into the unconscious and reaches up to the soul. Here you will find a mixture of light and dark reflections from the heart of a modern mystic. If you’d like to reprint a poem on your website, blog, social media, or newsletter, please contact us. We almost always grant permission.
Morning dawns… | Every blade of grass | Sings with elation | Revealing the secrets | of glorious creation…
The forest calls | beckoning forth the heart within. | Come walk in my shadows | and feel the filtered shafts of light.
Morning dawns… | Every blade of grass | Sings with elation | Revealing the secrets | of glorious creation…
I will release to you only my sweetness | And share with you only my joy | I will build with you a house of dreams | Where I grow patiently by the front door..
Sun’s Spotlight beacon sweeps the landscape | Kissing trees and crags of chiseled stone, | Rising up as if heaven calls it home.
Slipping silently out of heaven | I enter the dream | Each morning, | As the world’s static, need and fears | Like desperate children | Cling
Hard to believe these crystal wings | can carry bees on the breeze | and then slowly land | as if the hand | of God
Come sit with me and rest for awhile | Knowing we are all | part of all that is wild
Walking in water I become one with its flow | Silent, I feel a truth only nature can know
Like a waterfall free flowing | falling off safe shores of slate and stone...
I AM alone with the fullness of All-that-Is. | Sitting singly on the mountain top, | with not a soul around, | or so it seems,
Spring brings pale pastels | and freshly vibrant hues | of budding green.
First signs of spring sprout | through hardened earth | Rain and sun and sky | give birth.
To the north, Sweet peace. | Blue skies, white fleece, | Golden rays of the day’s last sun | Part clouds that flitter, float, and run.
A poetic heart ripped apart | find nothing but ashes | and remnants of pasts | and ghosts of what it once was…
A thousand tiny miracles | revealed within one glance | A thousand possibilities | unfold with every chance…
There are no hands on earth | that can caress me like the wind | Nor smiles that shines upon me | Quite like sun-kissed rays upon my skin.
I am not resisting | so much shifting. | All I want to do is be, | and be, and be ... in silence... and stillness. | No willingness | for anything else.
Silence as the darkness wraps me in its still embrace | Kissed by dancing starlight | and caressed by moonbeams on my face. | I wait...
Flowers blossom, nature sings | for beauty birthed by Sun and Spring. | Little did the winter know, | beneath the ice and cold gray snow.. | …that life was there, in patient rest | waiting with its bated breath…
