In an earthen vase
green cascades of filigree
Fine tendrils of an exotic
vine
Falling downwards in search
of the ground
Observing this I wander
through the passageways
Of my own being
Glancing into the shadowy
places
Searching for something
Perhaps a missing clue
to all this pondering
The green tendrils waltz
in the gentleness of
a slow breeze
Taking in the coolness
of the afternoon
Bird song in the high trees
and the rhythmic chant
of Latin American music
Sitting here in quiet perception
of the day
And enjoying the green tendrils
of the vine
Caressing the rough clay surface
of the earthen vase
Mellow musing in the
shelter of a green
cascade
Among the orange groves
Among the dry barren places
Grazing the dust of a way
to a place
High in the rocky foothills
of a sunny afternoon
Winter's echo in the graying
haze of the sunset
I meander in aimless
discovery of the day's end
Among the orange groves
Finding a place in the valley floor
Deep sand of a dry river bed
The tires of my bike
cutting a deep swathe
Momentarily halting my
onward pursuit
And stopping to glance
around
I see the horizon above
The tall Eucalyptus
like an altar of the gods
Blackening the sky
Formidable in their majesty
And wearily I move
on
Upwards out the river bed
Kicking off the dry dust
And pedaling up the steep
rocky slope
Towards the sky
------------------------------------------------------------------------- **Copyright 1999 by Michael David Coffey. (Mdcoffey@aol.com). Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author**
There is beauty
even in the ashes
and hope
beneath the pain.
Endings are illusions:
what we see is change.
The threads of time
weave patterns
that shimmer in the light.
Cut or broken filaments
re-weave beyond our sight.
Trapped inside the tapestry
we cannot see the loom,
the weavers never tell us
if they've left the room.
The colors that we make,
the shapes our dreams define,
are hidden from us slyly
in the overall design.
If we could see the fabric
and take the threads our way,
would the cloth be colored glory
or a human shade of gray?
------------------------------------------------------------------------- **Copyright 1999 by Terri Rolan (Trolan@aol.com). Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author**
We can change the world
before the world changes us.
We can create positive vibrations
before the negative ones take hold.
We can teach our children to have a conscience
before those who have none annihilate those who do.
We can flood the spirit with peace
before we drown in our own cesspool of sorrow.
We can write uplifting literature
to take the place of books that darken the soul.
We can pen lyrics to music that are acceptable to all people,
for violence breeds contempt.
We can save our environment
before our planet is as barren as the moon.
We have the power, the courage, and the wisdom to change the world.
------------------------------------------------------------------------- **Copyright 1999 by Georgianne Bone (Georgy@nlesearches.com). Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author**
Angels bound to decks of cards are not able to escape to cloud nine. They're constantly peering down through spaces between fluffed white pillows that cover azure horizons. Sudden dizziness strikes when looking vertically to the purgatory which is past life. Midwest fields are mere neat squares from this altitude, all touchable and understandable; not like when they were on a plane of horizontal wanderings. In the center of each of their minds is the innate knowledge of never going back; for peace that existed for a crystallized moment upon Earth, now dwells forever in spirit.
------------------------------------------------------------------------- **Copyright 1999 by Chris Rhatigan (Chessnstuf@aol.com) Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author**
AWAKENING
ONE DAY MY SOUL JUST OPENED UP
AND LIKE A BUTTERFLY
IT FLEW...
TOUCHING OTHERS IN ITS PATH.
AND SUDDENLY I KNEW
THAT SOUL WAS MADE IN LOVE
MY SOUL'S AWAKENING
OFFERED ME THIS
DAILY BLESSING.
TO REACH OUT
AND TOUCH
THE FACE OF
GOD!
------------------------------------------------------------------------- **Copyright 1999 by Dee Edgett (tes@nb.sympatico.ca). Reproduction is prohibited without express permission of the author**