six ways of dreaming

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six ways of dreaming

seeing into being

tasting tomorrow like afternoon tea

becoming the waft of lilies float

in the gold of summer air

entwine the voice of trees and birds

with crickets and colors that soar

and feel the reach of sun’s hold

wind’s brush, gravity pull

within, another way

your universe,

a dream away 

What the Sheep Know

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What the sheep know (but don’t say)

is not to stand alone (stay together),

and the square behind them (not a door),

marks the difference between dark and light.

Time is measured in greening grass,

the wait for rain, and the length of winter

(I wait for things that never happen).

They walk the day with new eyes (I cry).

Red and white, sun and water, and me –

they see (we are all this day).  I stand.

They stand. I wonder (the sheep know).

swan’s light

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and when she would glide,

remember her white and honest

she tucked beneath her wings,

a trail of glow bloomed beneath

her. float. shine, water angel,

collector of let go dreams, swim

in swirl of come true bright,

flashing believe, keeper of know,

angel wings save sinking hope,

swan’s heart throwing light.

You Call Me Firefly

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You call me firefly, and that means

I don’t need to be a butterfly, and dress

in bright colors and show off my wings.

In the twilight, my glow makes you smile,

and I glide and hover, drift and reach –

around you – as you cherish my light.

You would never put me in a jar, or ask me

to dim my light.  So I land upon your shoulder

to rest, until I am ready to shine again.

Words Run Through

Words are tiny foot soldiers sent out on missions.

They carry their letters and meanings with weighty might,

each a different hue, a different sound.  Some words scramble

and hurl themselves at their target, and some dance and sway,

so it seems they may never find their way.  Oh, but, when they do,

those words carry light and resonance and make faces glow. 

There are words that are hot, consumed with flames, dangerous

to touch, but still they land and sear, burn through, leave ashes

behind and smolder.  Words of longing carry shades of blue

and sound like a piano in an empty hall, echoing.  They drift

slowly through the air and settle like a whisper on a lonely cheek.

The words of kindness shine and pick up broken pieces, wrap

themselves around until no more pieces can fall.  Words

may have an edge to balance on, until they decide which way

to drop.  When they don’t seem to be enough, words call in more

tiny foot soldiers and weave themselves together in new ways,

creating, becoming something that never existed before,

becoming part of you.  Words have no beginning and no ending,

only places to stop along the way.

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a burden too great to bear

take it all back – the angel wings

and garden dreams, the light

i was meant to give. take the sunset souls

and voices echoed, flights through mountains

and paintings. take all of the answers i know

but don’t want, and people climbing into my mind.

and take back reading and feeling who they are,

healing and knowing too much.  move all those

who come to me at night, asking for comfort

and answers,  take speaking with my eyes

and hearing all the time, and carrying light

on a butterfly’s wing.  it’s too heavy to carry now.

no one is looking for light anymore.

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Once/Always

Once,

before I knew

that angels listened,

I ran frightened through dark

forests and forgotten towns.  I was

invisible, and silent, and screaming, and

alone.  Closing my eyes to sounds of pain, trying

not to hear visions of people shattering. It chased me,

followed me, lived my life.  And I spun broken, until another

lost soul opened up the light.  And the spinning me settled.

And listened. And watched.  Light drifted in, covered

darkness.  I saw songs, heard the glow rise.

And floating, soaring, feeling it all

in its fullness.  And they said to

find the broken ones,

and fix them

with light.

Always.

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Self-Portrait, Words

blue, and always searching,

looking for where the sun shines

down, so I can turn toward it and grow

like the peaceful sunflower.  always

feeling darkening clouds gathering

behind me, threatening me, chasing me,

that I may go from sun on my face

to a cold, shaking ball on muddy ground,

driving rain, lightning strikes and fear

things change so fast.  i can’t keep up.

alone, but searching for like hearts,

holding light, pulling it in, spreading it out

blue and light, reaching alwaysImage