Prayers of Travel

Dear Poet

Guide me
Along the map
Of infinite destinations
Where love and hate intersect
Where pain and pleasure soothe
Where black and white greys
With the fine intellect
That truth
Is based
Not only in books
But in the course
Of our hearts
That
Sight
Sound
Taste
And touch
Can lead us in the way
Of a life journeyed well
And you sweet Poet
In your sensual gifts 
That light a road
In beauty everlasting 

©Entirety 2015

  
(Photo from Pinterest)

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Glass Houses

Glass houses protecting
The most tender of hearts
Fragile wings
That still fly
And a love
That’s still willing to risk

©Entirety 2015

  
Art by Naman Verma – see more of their beauty here https://500px.com/namanverma

An excerpt from my novel – Reality

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I was five years old, sitting at the top of the stairs in my fleece jammies.  A stuffed toy golden retriever tucked under my arm, matted but well loved.  The thermostat still hadn’t been turned up because no one else was awake in the house so there was a slight chill that kept my knees tucked in.  All the while the glow of the Christmas tree could be seen on the wall on the landing by the bottom of the stairs.
I sat there.  Obediently not entering the living room as I was told the night before, until my other sisters awoke and my parents gave the ok.

The quietness of the dark morning I remembered, came with a familiar tradition.  I could hear the CBC broadcasting whether live or recorded.  Choral music of Westminster Abbey quietly resonating with the calm of what juxtaposed the anxiousness of a child on Christmas morn to further things along.  It was magic and it held my attention as much if not more, than any new toy ever could.

Even as the morning progressed the sound from the stereo was subtly in the background.  As I got older I even started to recognize Handels Messiah as part of the regular Christmas programming.  But it wasn’t the music I remembered most, it was what I felt.

~

I opened my eyes to see people beginning to shuffle out, heads turning this way and that trying to absorb the last bits of beauty left from the service and the magnificence of the environment.
I could tell you nothing of the lesson, I could name no hymn that was sung or played.  I couldn’t even tell you if the choir sang naked, only that what my soul felt was as close to what I could describe as the moment of Christmas morning.  The calm, a peace, juxtaposing an underlining anticipation, a type of soul chaos mixed with a souls order knowing two worlds were colliding right here.

We got up and began to make our way out.  Felicia and I shared very little in terms of words as we shuffled our own way towards the exit.  I don’t know what she was feeling, but I wasn’t quite ready to re-enter a jovial conversation about men and anatomy lab mishaps.

Something caught my eye as we were about to approach the grave of the unknown warrior; flickering lights from candles to my right under a painting.  Leaving Felicia’s side I drifted towards the pillar that held a portrait of the Christ child with his mother and where at least a hundred votives sat, some lit and some not.

Time and space suddenly became a void as I watched the flickering fire.  Sounds muted around me, feeling a cool sterile environment wash over my mind, a contrast to the heat I had just felt from the many candles alight before me.
I closed my eyes, still seeing the orange glow behind my eyelids, not wanting to remember, but not wanting to forget either; her face.

All alone.

With no one to comfort her.
No mother, as the Christ child in the portrait had, to hold her.

I opened my eyes and reached for a long match, seeing the flames dance between the tears that filled my eyes now falling down my cheeks.

 

And my lips moved in stark memory as I lit a candle.

Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your God.


Find the beginning of the story here…http://w.tt/1YBMPGo


Take Me

The mistletoe fresh
From the winters grove
Holly verdant
Against the stark white
Of snow
Berries bittersweet
From the cold touch
Of a sparkling night
Stockings breached
By hands that long
And a tree that hums
The songs
Of Christmas past
Your eyes
Twinkling mischief
The reflection
Of your light
And the soothing fire
Of your presence
Warms my hearth
Now hem me into your arms
Kiss my neck
Then my mouth
And take me into
This peaceful night

©Entirety 2015

  
Photo found on Flickr https://m.flickr.com/#/photos/berta_/ 

Merry Christmas 

Welcome to winter wonderland!

I wanted to take the time to wish you all a merry Christmas!  Thank you for all the reading you do, for all the encouragement you leave me and all the inspiration you give.

Many blessings to you and yours xo

Entirety

  

Your Sadness

I could feel the sadness
That seeped from your pen
And I mourned with you
For you
And I surrendered
To a song
So much louder
Than the one
We had just begun
A tune we would never know
As one

©Entirety 2015

  
(Photo from pexels.com)

His Heart always can….

You had me in tears by “Her Heart”

My Sword and Shield....

Unsteady….
His fingers,  as He helps Her unzip
Her dress
Alone in this tiny dressing Room
He’ll turn his back while She
changes
Recent ceremony says He doesn’t Have to
A habit, He’ll learn to change
His eyes can’t see Her
But His heart always can

Her Hair
He always loved how it felt against His face
being lost in Her embrace
The way it would get tangled in His stubble
A year from Now, He’ll come home and She
will have cut it as Short as His
The bottom of His heart will drop out
When She asks Him what He thinks
He’ll say She looks beautiful

Her Eyes
Always behind panes of Glass
Rubbing at them, red and watery
He’ll laugh and tell Her to stop trying
to wear the contacts, The Glasses are fine..
Years from now, He’ll learn to put microscopic
screws back into holes to…

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Midwinters Hand

Untame
Each wisp of wind
That stirs
The awakening
Of midwinters hand
To feel it fresh and wild
Blowing thru me
To its end

©Entirety 2015

  

(Photo from tumblr)

Fertile Art

Remove the words
From the tip of your pen
And plant them
As fertile art
Upon the pages of my soul

©Entirety 2015 

 
(Photo from Pinterest)

Seeds

Forgotten seeds
Burning under
A wild fire
Releasing incense
To sky as prayers
Then to fertile soil
To find root
In hearts

©Entirety 2015

  
(Photo found on tumblr)