As much as I find formation,
In the Ivory tower that surrounds me,
There is something missing,
Begging for completion in this equation,
It is a longing for familiar arms and body
For me to embrace,
And the comfort of love in the flesh
Made closer to my being,
It is a need for the very souls that drive me in my seeking,
It is an irony of needing to leave to find what is most needed
Is what was left behind,
I knew this already,
But it is the felt notion that brings this to brightest light,
In missing home.
Category: Poetry
Human Presence
The cityscape is lush,
With barreling trees of iron and concrete,
Glass luminescent with the reflection
Of clouds and sun’s rays,
I have grown accustomed to a rural home,
Where flora and fauna remain ever in view,
But here I am reminded of a different kind of beauty,
The mark of the natural still present,
But in the natural view of human presence,
human craft,
Not removed from the natural world,
But planted in it,
Grown out of it.
Who am I to Write a Sermon?
Who am I to write a sermon?
I silently ask myself,
As I settle into my being,
And wonder,
I wonder and it extends to my hand,
Travels down through my fingers,
That now itch with a need to write,
To write words of hope,
Peace,
Contemplation,
Resilience,
Awe,
Transcendence,
And then
Breathless with completion,
I stare down at my work in wonder,
Who am I to write a sermon?
To the Wonder
To the light I go,
Drawn like a sapling to it,
The wonder is known.
The Shuffle
He always shuffles the deck,
So fast I can’t see
The cards changing places,
Were this just a game,
My heart wouldn’t race
As he sorts,
I know he will win,
He always will,
But I always play to be near, anyway.
Flora (Sensual Beauty)
I miss walking through the gardens,
I took for granted all the fragile beauty that laid right within my step,
I miss the sight of blossoms full in springtime,
Displaying and reminding of my own fertility,
I miss the smell of fresh aromatic flowers,
eagerly hinting to be held gently and brought closer,
I miss the closeness to flora that made me feel ethereal, beautiful,
Otherworldly as I walked through this domain of sensual beauty.
She of Letters 