Monday, December 24, 2012

This Beautiful Night


Hushed and silent
Thinking
Breathing steadily
Outside moonbeams and night cover shadowed rooftops
Surrealism and His truth fill in an evening of thoughts
The mind is free to peruse, the spirit to pray
You can feel the coming winter staggering through the open window to wander about the edge of your sleep

There is something though, so vivid about this night
Pondering, just to put a finger on it, the mind’s eye straining to see
Perspectives become different, changing, cultivating, for His mercies are new every morning
Maybe it is this vast beautiful stillness in the Spirit, the tranquility that drips, saturating the night air

For yesterdays and today are now fading, a narrative passing away.
For whatever is different about this night, I must now turn my thoughts to sleep from this beautiful night

 
Copyright 2012 Wandering Satellite Publishing

Friday, December 21, 2012

Dreaming The Soil Of Phileo


From my pillow from the shore I push away
My boat of paper lace
Into the sea of beckoning clouds
Never looking back, no shadow against my face

Casting thyself away with sails made from silk
With the pulsing squall of wind
Lightning strikes underneath, alighting the earth below
This quest now on to find the beginning of the end

To decipher for there and beyond
I will trade spices and cashmere
To uncover this quixotic place
That draws my heart near

Lofty is this upper ocean
Sailing past the vast variations over the earth below
Setting my eyes forward I will voyage on
To find the reverie, the soil of Phileo

I strain my sight for days
Through the firmament of Arabian blue
Nothing is there even when I slumber
For when I wake, rub my eyes, the same is the view

Here there are no constellations
No bearing to lead me on my way and care
Just a beating heart and arcane dreams
Chasing something inside with someone whom to share

The earth has turned some ten thousand times
But on my boat of paper lace the voyage on must go
Until I see that horizon appear
And land my boat, on the soil of Phileo

 

Copyright 2012 Wandering Satellite Publishing

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Rhapsody In Pine


Rustic curtains bestir back and forth
Panting wind blusters through the open cobwebbed casement
I breathe deep the air sweet

Sylvan pine trees idyllic stir but do not budge
Cool gales bristle through the pines harmoniously in symphony and rhapsody
Composing resonance through its forested ceiling

Rain, soft, falling from above
Makes its journey from pillowed thunderheads above
Trickling off the roof, puddles in soliloquy convey natures speak

Overhead nature clashes distant in the atmosphere
God Almighty’s footsteps reverberate
Thundering behind majestic granite peaks
From far away awakens me slightly

Traversing between drowsy velveteen thoughts
Reality peeks in and goes, eyelids open slight then close
Heed the fire crackling feigning its last breath
Puffing and heaving its last hint of heat

Shall I rise to stoke these dying flames beckoning?
To feed its hunger for my warmth
Bemoaning to stir myself, yet though, I shall let it slumber, like me