Invisible Gifts

Pixabay image by Barbara A. Lane

This is my last post for a few weeks as I sign off for the holidays. I wish you all a happy holiday season filled with peace, love, and good health. May we have a new year full of kindness and hope. ❤

This poem is in response to the image Colleen Chesebro provided for her #Tanka Tuesday Challenge. The poem is a garland cinquain.

Bow Down

Bow down

to winter’s wheel

when sacred smoke ascends

blends in the hushed whiteness of breath

spirit

sleepless

gather our dreams

life’s unspoken secrets

tales of longing words of solace

unseen

our eyes

cannot behold

the warp and weft of love

nor peace and bliss, a swallow’s song

a chant

our hands

cannot unwrap

whispers of forgiveness

a prayer in a child’s heart

a hope

in grace

we surrender

to winter’s darkest night

the gifts of the invisible

renewed

bow down

gather our dreams

the weft and weave of love

a prayer in a child’s heart

renewed.

Poetry from The Melding of Aeris

Poems have a way of popping into my head. The two poems in The Melding of Aeris did that. Just appeared. They are from an old book that belonged to Mylea’s dead lover that she keeps beneath her bed.

In the Garden

In the garden of eternity
Beauty unveils her secret soul
From the dark and silent soil
Unaware of her loveliness

She is the verdant field, the quaking leaves
Arching branches heavy with summer sweet.
He finds her entangled in creeping vines
Wending the pathways to his heart

She colors the lover’s ardent cheek
Burns in the flames’ crimson belly
Her fingers pry open the secret worlds of night
To find him, buried in a gemmed mine
Yet undiscovered
Longing

They travel this journey side by side
Beauty and Love
that the desert may become a garden
that timid wings may rise in flight

And when the petals fall
Carried by winter’s white wind
Love will bear Beauty beyond the veil of death
Into eternal spring

***

I Dreamed

I dreamed
The rising from deep slumber dream of morning
Where my feet dance through the market colors
And wagons overflow with fruits, succulent sweet
Red as new blood
My basket brims with ripeness
For I choose those with soft bruises
Brown beneath damaged skin

Summer dances pirouettes of dandelions and milkweed
Tufts of down in the sunlight blowing lightly westward
Over pink sand shells to the swells
Sunlight glints on sea spray sharp as diamonds
Or shattered glass

He hides beneath the canopy of my tree
Waiting for me among the leaves
He sings a voice like water
I seek him among the branches
With a sense of just missing
A fear of never finding
Of being too late
My basket of fruit misplaced.