TRIUMPH OF SPIRIT IN LOVE, NATURE & ART

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Starlight, Starbright


Another reblog…

MOONSIDE

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Starlight through the skylight
Moonlight just above the roof
Fireflies flickering flames
Random to our eyes
In a dizzying mercurial display
Flitting to the tune
Of trilling frogs
And the flutter of batwings
I see goblins in the windows
Alone would be terrified
With you here beatified
By the beauty of the silence
Punctuated by the frogs
Spotlighted by the moon
And the sparkling stars
Whose dust makes up
These rented bodies we carry
While inside heartbeats
Tick away our lives
To the beat of a flashing firefly
Or a flickering star.

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My Cathedral


Another reblog…

MOONSIDE

The wilderness
is my cathedral
Spring Trees at Sunset  (digital photo)
The sky
my steeple
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The trees
my buttresses
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Hay bales
my statuary
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Flowers
my stained glass
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A babbling brook
my organ
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Frogs and toads
my choir
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Fields of wildflowers
my incense
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Thunder storms
my high mass
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A very diverse congregation…

From cows

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to snails and turtles

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to gazillions
of insects

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Deer sometimes come round

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Butterflies abound

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Moths, too

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Birds of every hue

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All that’s missing is you

but you worship your own way

doing charity every day

more than I can say

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Eyes to Eternity


Forgive me for reblogging this. I have zero creativity these days, fear of the pandemic and all, but I still have the feelings expressed here, if anything, even more intensely now in a marriage that is almost 32 years old.   So I am posting this again..

MOONSIDE

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At age 35 I found someone who was more afraid of closeness than I was.  I understood him almost from day one.  This understanding came out of years of therapy that followed my breakdown at age 28.  Before the breakdown, I didn’t know that I was depressed.  Before the breakdown, I didn’t know that my failed relationships were due to my fear of closeness.  Before the breakdown, I didn’t know I was Bipolar.  I learned a lot of things in therapy that helped to change the direction of my life.

And then one day Thomas walked into the library where I had been working for 10 years.  He got a job as a library assistant.  He was a graduate student and wanted to work part-time.  I took the first steps towards asking him out because it was obvious he never would.  I had learned a thing or two after a stint…

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Informal art show


An informal art show of photographs and photographs of original paintings before they go as a donation hopefully.

Image

Computer Art: Experiment no. 2


Sexagenarian Love


Waking to your touch
electric eels
massive
healing hands
without a glint
of sexuality
Waking to your smile
whispers sweetly
to my soul
like the first time
so long ago
on our first flight
together
when your arm
brushed against mine
and shook our worlds
out of their solitary
orbits and
sent us to the moon.

Your grey fluffy hair
sparkling silver threads
entices every time
I sniff your fragrance
and inhale the heavens
the warmth
of your cheeks
in our fleeting
embrace
I would it
would last forever
like our love

The smile lines etched
around your sky blues
alter the pulse
the course of my blood
and with each glance
reach for the stars
twinkling inside my head

The wrinkles in your cheeks
and your furrowed brow
pluck at the strings
inside my bosom
for I know the hard times
and worries that
engraved them on your face

On the doorway
to Orpheus
in pillowed embrace
your big hand
holds mine
and makes me
feel safe and loved
and little
as you drift off
leaving me wishing
for morning
to awaken once
more to you
fears tears
so long to wait
till morning

We are old
How did this happen?
and we are in love
more than ever
youthful passion gone
replaced by years of fidelity
affection, quarrels, laughing,
teasing, crying
always sharing, caring
yet attraction still stirs
and the years of together
have sewn our souls to one

Loss is inevitable
and unacceptable
In equal measure
The God I used to find
in nature
I now find in you
And the ecstasis
of gazing at the sky
now rests with the mystery
of you and the layers 
of your personality

You CANNOT leave me
I won’t let you go
If you should leave
if I still breathe
take my breath away
I beg
of you
of God
take me with you
I cannot 
breathe without
your breath
nor see
without your eyes
nor pulse 
without your heart
I cannot
though I did before
I can no longer
I live
for through in
you
and you alone
in forever.

Ode to a One-Eyed Dog


You open our eyes to the Infinite

with your soft-brown, one-eyed stare,

your gentle, pink-tongued kisses

and your deep, dark, velvet ways.

You open our hearts to Eternal Love,

joining in our displays of affection,

cringing at discord in dire dejection,

Oh, Love-Dog with a failing heart!

You work your love-magic on all you meet

with a willful wag of your toy-like tail

Soothing us in sorrow and defeat

with the soulful “ear” of your only eye.

In your own pain, you comforted us.

Losing Dad, you licked Mom’s tears.

When Mom died you brought us back

from the shrieking world of grief and fears.

And you are getting old, as I lie sick in bed,

my nose nuzzling your greying head,

inhaling your sweet doggie scent,

I feel the fragile flutter of your tender heart.

Lulled by the hum of your delectable delight,

warmed by your love, touched by your joy,

filled with awe at each breath you take,

I see in you God’s mystery of life.

Divine Romance


Our third decade together. And the love grows deeper against a background of eventual, inevitable loss. A loss more unimaginable than one’s own demise.

I look deeply into your eyes, my eyes linger, falling into your blue orbs, while you, in turn, delight in my gaze, going far beyond the polite looks people use in everyday conversations. We pause too long. I fall into the abyss of your sky blues and feel reverence. Reverence for your happy spirit, infectious mood.

It is not the Eros of our first decade that waned in the second and all but disappeared in the third. Attraction, yes, but of a different nature. Attraction of the heart, the soul, the spirit. We bring each other to pure joy, bliss, a sharing of spirit. We give each other a taste of oneness with all.

Turtle Tears


It is before dawn on a moonlit night. The moon has swept the trees and grass in silver. I await the sun. The moon woke me to whisper about the silent beauty of the predawn hours. The yard is white magic and I imagine a monarch butterfly now sleeping, awaken to find a turtle so it can drink its tears. Monarch butterflies drink turtle tears. Why are the turtles crying? They cry for the ailing earth. They cry for those who suffer. They cry for the dying. They cry for those striving to become one with all. They cry for the sap in the trees flowing. They cry for the animals who are constantly on guard for their lives. They cry for the bird egg which will not ever hatch. They cry for the dying stars in an ever expanding universe. They cry for the unawareness of the high and mighty. Turtle tears are like diamonds sparkling in candlelight, like rain drops on a drooping Lily of the Valley. Come now to drink my tears, dear Monarch. Your beauty gladdens my heart. Your heart drops manna from the heavens into my soul. Come now, dear Monarch. Come lick the dew drops in my eyes.

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MOONSIDE

TRIUMPH OF SPIRIT IN LOVE, NATURE & ART

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Πάντοτε χαίρετε, ἀδιαλείπτως προσεύχεσθε, ἐν παντὶ εὐχαριστεῖτε· τοῦτο γὰρ θέλημα Θεοῦ ἐν Χριστῷ ᾿Ιησοῦ εἰς ὑμᾶς. (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18)

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