Blue moon and light of night
Coupled together just in sight
As Spring breaks from winter
As the cold still splinters
Heavy the air of fog and ice
seasons change the moon came twice
Silently I sit and listen
to morning signs, and sky still glistens.
Copyrighted ; 2018 CMM
The Dragon Caper
I run in flight
To get out of sight
As the dragon and me
Often we flee
To my room all quite
He keeps though the night
Me safely and warm
Always from harm
My dragon and me …
copyright , CMM. 2018
Tempest ages of tales from lofts
of organs and replicas of saints.
Covered icons to express a time
quiet memories of prayers unsaid.
Whispered among the pews of
the faithful few, wanting …
humanity is deafened to creation.
Signs and wonders are fewer
as ages of hopeful hopeless.
Crossing always into a river of regret
it never matters if we are aware.
It is who we are as oneness,
it is who we are as togetherness
from the beginning, to the recognition
just before, just before the river of regret.
Copyrighted 2018 CMM
The Women who taught me strength…
If I could pick up the pieces
and build a bridge from me to you,
we’d brush our hair with scents of yesterday’s living,
color our lips with stains of mauve secrets.
There would be miles of many years,
across miles of tears and sacred truths.
We’d hang the railings with aprons tied together,
and our bras that covered our bosoms of nurturing souls.
Bridging over rivers from birthing beds wet with sweat and fluids from the womb,
we would cry the storms with tears of sorrow, spring rains with tears of joy.
If I could pick the pieces of all our pain and build the hopes with the strength remain,
we would hear the chorus of all before us and harmony welcome those to come.
"Master, pity they servant ! He is deaf and 3 parts blind. He cannot catch thy commandments. He cannot read Thy mind. Oh, leave him not to his loneliness; nor make him thy kitten scorn. He hath none other God than Thee since the year that he was born . Lord look down on they servant! Bad things have come to pass. There is no heat in the mid-day sun, nor health in the way side grass. His bones are full of an old disease- his torments run and increase. Lord, make haste with thy lightenings and grant him quick release." —-Rudyard Kipling, ‘ His Apologies ‘ 1932