and move in time to rhythms, being
splendidly played in diffident moods.
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Lengthening shadows of yesterday’s memories lead me into pools of sorrow, where I can wade through their images and feelings, holding on to heart-felt emotion with an energy of rhythm.
Listening closely, heeding meanings with wisdom’s guidance and easy-going pace.
Twilight peeking over the horizon,
Engraving death’s beauty upon many hearts,fastening indelibly,images of beyond, standing at our feet.
Heartaches of stone, hitting bottom hard,
throwing them into canyons of wakeful sleep.Knowing someday they will still be etchedin pictures of memories, stone-cold –penetrating thoughts of remembering withshards of tears, tearing the life-blood ofsincerity and lost love from within.
Writing throughout life, writing of and about people, nature, feelings, emotions, taking it all in stride, answering the call of my purpose as I write.
Calmly writing everything that comes to me, intuitively sensing emotions, writing of another person’s inner feelings, somehow knowing what they’ve been through, writing exactly what channels from them to me.It is so fascinating the way it happens, getting a poetical glimpse into who the person is, what they’re really feeling so deeply inside them that…
Removing self from depths I so often tarry and linger in.
difficult time of it.Beginning of self must begin in me, yet others slam andshove me in directions they want me to go.How precious do you think that makes me feel?Definitely, it brings me to an all time low.Energies fracturing the little self-esteem I tried to grow.Staring at a future of non-ending disharmony causes severedespair inside…