beginnings

Paradox


 

 

A robin waits and then she soars

I run the hills out  of doors

In the middle of world’s unrest

I still run and the Robin makes her nest.

 

3.00 miles

 

 

Copyright 2018

Paradox


I enter into today with the celebration of loss and love —ed9ca-photo-218

I cherish your bedside as we said good bye and

All I could do is cry

It has been five years and your sweet desperation breathed between two places

Your eyes closed as some said the “Our Father” and others’  dark faces

Posturing, some told lies and some truths; you listened.

Reaching into the depths of the last moments, you closed your eyes

For the last time you pulled from a place we all know only once in time

You called out ” I love you.” The room quieted

copyrighted:  CMM  2016

The Path


Wet morning sand stick to my feet

 

while brown seaweed breaks into my path.

 

I travel to my beginnings toward the sea.

 

Watchful without pretention or notice

 

sounds of waves crashing and wind blushing

 

past me, as I step into the path.

 

On the shores morning and evening meet always.

 

Reflection of all time before me, and after me,

 

will continue long after my footprints are no longer

 

wet to my feet; deep into my path.

 

Copyrighted:  2016 CMMimg_1107

The Journey


IMG_3668Dark and bleak the days become,

Mother and child still are one.

They seek shelter for the night

against the cold weather’s fright.

A manger, a stable, they find by grace.

In the night, their stay finds pace

to birthing pains inside the shed.

Labor and love defies world’s dread.

Where infant cries break the sounds

all kings and shepherds seek to surround,

as star reflects hope and the son,

God enters the world among

on this our Christmas Day…

©   CMM  2015

Renewal


unlikely blooming

of the white bouquet of

lilies waiting …

Renaissance from the darkened

dregs of life’s bottomwater lilies

Sea and Free Will


Sea and Free Will

I am never more at peace,

soul, never so restless,

mind, never so engaged,

heart, never so brimming,

body, never so awake…

As it is

with sand slipping under my feet,

salt left on my skin from the sea’s wind.

the white aquatic seagulls call an echo,

behind the albatross breaking dawn…

to the heart of my beginnings.

copyrighted: CMM 2003