Dust storms
The circle closesā¦
Sitting in the holy smoke, I breathe
borders by letting in less and less
of world (opening them elsewhere) -
dust storms rising from past skies,
an almost black out
turning moon
into ghostly blurs, into
half hidden matter in a fast downpour of waters turning dust accretions
into newly whirling daze migrating unseen the soft peat I tread
barefootedā¦
still, a
wet moon rules
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā matter by seas of softness
in deeply moving waves of
fire within
(wars without reflect the waves of dust
in nature ā no wonder I never before
carried my own strength into world) ā
she travels the storms in her vessel,
never sinking;
she calms the waves, lets the dust storms
settle in her teachings.
I find sparkling sand: the dust brought
new lines, never meant to choke;
the circle opens and a new dawn works itself inā¦
As I watch the sun rise,
a new world unfolds, rooting
where it could not before ā
scar of wars within/without still visible,
yet poppies are already colonizing
(I remourn those that fell);
I know one day the emerging forest will flower
wildly
Ā
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Comments
I love your writes John. Always so spiritual and beautifully written. I feel you take the reader along on your healing, searching journey Hugs x
Thank you, I am glad it really comes across what I need to express. Also glad, because these lines were originally three separate loose ends. I managed to shuffle them into Dust storms that used to be hurricanesš. Many happy returns on the hugs...Ā
'No Guru, No Method, No Teacher.' A Lovely Poem. š
Hanx and yes, I was never one to listen to "another brick in the wall" - unless it makes sense (the best thing my mother left me...). Luckily my wife makes a ton of sense - I am still around because of and thanks to her...Ā
Every new day is just that new.Ā
dust storms rising from past skies,
an almost black out
turning moon
into ghostly blurs, into
half hidden matter in a fast downpour of waters turning dust accretions
into newly whirling daze migrating unseen the soft peat I tread
barefootedā¦
Love this stanza dear John, kudos.Ā
A hopeful poem to say the least. Beautiful. š¹Ā
Thank you, to think I built this one out of three loose bits that were not quite related I am even more happy with your commentā¤ļø