The Dream Poems

Rebeca Cygnus photography
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Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse # 77
In a dream you are never eighty.  ~Anne Sexton

I double dog dared myself to write 2 poems for this one, so here are my poems for the promt:

The Casualties of Dreams,

Awake I dream of what could be But Asleep I dream of what has been re-living my past as a person at times I barely know each place is a little different and yet everything is always the same I brave storms in rooms I have lived in and walk close to the edge of cliffs where I know I have never walked fearless as I would have been  before I ever knew what it was to fall yet all the fears I have learned to hold come out like pigeons wanting crumbs and every struggle I have wrestled with manifests itself like a spirit  that floats through walls that I rarely can escape I almost lose my dearest love  down every dangerous street As I fall further from where I once was Lost and feeling alone Then my father  who has been gone for decades …

Hoarding the Light

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Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse # 75
"We are star stuff which has taken it's destiny into it's own hands." ~Carl Sagan
Note: It was when I was a child that I learned to hold on tight keeping all I could call my own and clutch on to it with all my might my whole adulthood I have been learning to simply let it go.....
You Cannot Cage an Orb of Light but You Can Cage Your Own Heart,

To the east their hearts held loneliness To the west it was a certain fear In-between there was a desolation That spread like a woman’s tears Then one day an orb of light arrived That lit up their hearts and the sky So desperate they would lose it They took to ropes ladders and ties Trying to hold it down It lasted about one day And then the orb was gone They couldn’t make it stay I wonder if they would have let it freely stand Maybe it would have chosen to remain Some things cannot be caged But what our hearts choose to hold is truly within our hands

Transgressions of the Foolish Chorister

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Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse # 74

"Some keep the Sabbath going to Church,  I keep it staying at Home -- with a bobolink for a Chorister, and an Orchard for a Dome." ~ Emily Dickinson

We were once a part of the song A beautiful chorus with the leaves and the birds Sunlight lit the center stage With a glorious yet sweet view But pride and greed Seeped into man’s hearts Stealing the show With no regard For how it affected The song nor the singers A chorus was meant for many A choir that sings in unison Supporting each other In harmony I pray one day We will return to Mother Nature As true prodigal sons.
  It has been a crazy week here in South Eastern Texas.  I have experienced flooding more than once over the last few years.  In 2016 my car was flooded during the dreaded “Tax Day Flood”, and in 2017 my apartment flooded during Harvey.  I am blessed to be in a house now, but during the torrential rains of tropical storm Imelda I watched waters get close…

Light from the Moon

Photo by Tony Detroit on Unsplash

Linking with  Toni's wonderful Wed Muse ~ Harvest Moon

"We ran as if to meet the moon." —Robert Frost

I feel you watch me Following me down the path Though immense miles apart We are connected by a certain attraction It is the empty places you fill When I look at you You give a warmth Through the light of your being And you guide me in the right direction Time and time again.


Photo by jae bano on Unsplash
Today I am linking with Toni's wonderful Wed Muse for a  Japanese word prompt. The word is "boketto" and it means to gaze at the distant landscape with an empty mind.  She is asking us to do just that and then let it speak to us.  Here is mine:
The soul can split the sky in two and let the face of God shine through.  ~Edna St. Vincent Millay
The sky is a big ever-changing canvas God’s artwork in progress Reminding me that no matter what I face There is something bigger He has planned.

Hold On

Photo by Evie Shaffer from Pexels

Linking with Toni’s wonderful Wed Muse It is a music, non-music prompt. Come join us!
  I am broken but I will not bend And I will not move on like the fickle wind Here I am with everything I own A suitcase with my heart alone Do not open the door and make me depart Just open your arms and take my heart For I am broken but I will not bend And I will not move on like the fickle wind I am a fire, and a warmth that is true I hold it all for only you Do not stay cold and leave me lonely Hold me close in love’s true ceremony For I am broken but I will not bend And I will not move on like the fickle wind I took a chance and changed your way of life Now I hope you will hold on and also change mine.

The Art of Living

Photography by Ali Falak Image source
Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse # 70 Come join us!
Truth is the daughter of Time. ~Aulus Gellius

I used to long to dream in color for I lived in a black and white world all the edges of my day were cut like diamonds in a card board box that had no cracks big enough to let in the light since then I have learned the art of living is a slow lesson and sometimes what we learn takes days that blend into years to finally understand and truly see to live you must be willing to first face the truth then accept what is before you and forgive what is in the past it is a process of movement letting go and moving on brush strokes of beauty do not come from still hands most lessons are better learned by doing and no one else can do it for us