NaPoWriMo 2017 #7

Glory’s voice, utterer, potter’s wheel clay culled of Crone Moon and Milky Way,

Starchild, do not seek tenders and hope amongst the colors of your visioned sight,

The heart who claims love yet, holds the darkness as for you a guiding light,

Captive, craven you shall become, as the raven is to the black he sought for envy,

Feed them not with green pools, copper lamp pupil gated souls. sweet glance or glare,

For turning away will their mechanism be, to fantasy, id and ego plated, awaited,

Delicious dishes mirrored selves, both snails and eggs and puppy dog tails,

Go out instead and dress the trees in this your lorn laced ruffled sleeves,

Arm fulls embrace, curtsy the leaves, kissing bark veins, cheeking mossy tellings,

Drawn water as if sapling springs from mountain thaws, awakening warmth in their further fruits,

Not yet even a bud of thought in a twig’s lonesome dreams, when Autumn sings,

There will be found the seeds, the husk for Earth and Star’s child to circle round,

Rhyme past thyme sleeping lazy in the summer sun swinging on the ripened vine,

Hop the creek, toes to minnows cool waters, and algae slimes as tadpoles divine time there,

Now lives for the beauty the children feel in their close and most precious Host,

The Voices of our souls can not express lest we sing the cellular Nature songs,

When we were and Who we are while dancing to Where shall we go next my friend ?

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Art Credit: Tomasz Alen Kopera

Now is the briefest passage of the gloaming light … mustard flecked goblin suspensions of Spirit’s absinthe carpet between worlds … mosaic cedar peridot shadows cast craving capillaries to crest upon ethereal shores … we wait … our nakedness hidden behind the frail coats of the illuminated unkindness of Winter … it is not yet ready to trade our smiles for the warmth Pangea may measure with both sunlight and the breath of the stars in their ecstatic chants to Baba … the forest is brief in its mating … all above and below tis sacred glow revealed as it once was … not as we made it so … bark and branch as kindred kings carrying lark, lichen, moss, and lamp likened skies of pure pervading glory …  in the turning cast, the evening’s shadow, fauns a delicate blanket of faery tales yet unwritten … lovers await the deepening safety, the negral of night … to taste the darkness of surrender’s kiss …

© 2016 Cdd All Rights Reserved

Please visit this link for more of Tomasz’s astounding art work. Support the Arts They are the foundation of our freedoms. Blessings, Carla Dawn

http://www.tuttartpitturasculturapoesiamusica.com/2013/01/Tomasz-Alen-Kopera.html

© Tutt’Art@ | Pittura * Scultura * Poesia * Musica |

#NaPoWriMo 28

I am going to choose to stay in love … it is what makes me happy … not for the reasons you might see … or the way in which you would think I should … I wish to stay in love with life … with the way the moon rises each and every night … to look forward to each Spring after the long weary Winter … knowing their is a week in which the iris will bloom … and I will be able to experience their blessed scent … to empower others and keep myself uplifted, learning, growing, sharing … even when the struggle of life is uphill … I’m in love with art and music and dancing alone at times … stargazing, wishing, and asking for a child’s second chance … I dream of planting a new rain forest of trees, writing a million poems, and remembering everything I can that is good about believing … saying each three times … I am choosing to stay in love … because love’s power heals me with every brilliant new sunrise … more than I could have ever known.

#NaPoWriMo 28
© 2015 Carla Dawn Dunlap All Right Reserved

Stars

I tried to share my sky with you … a Milky Way unbroken basket handle shining … the quiet of the night still, late, and so fresh with opening one can particle to pieces, if needs be … You said I’d never truly see the stars … until I saw them from the top of the Empire State Building … on a clear and cold December night … with you by my side, guiding me through the constellations … one finger pointing towards the parables … the other fumbling for the screw plate in hopes of tracing the key whole to my heart … your pick is rusty and I would be difficult … standing on the side which presents the most challenge … nervous fingers slip tell ping on the concrete below turns my head … the look on your face says it all … I see what you mean now …  the stars are within each of us.

 © 2015 Carla Dawn Dunlap All Right Reserved