ENCHANTED WORD

The words, I feel, are trying to bubble forth.. The words, I feel, are hindered by some unseen and familiar force.. Trust I do in my ability, for it comes to me with ease. Trust I do in my fertility, for I am a woman bearing fruit, flower, and seed.

I've been so in love that my body made the choice. My mind was just along for the ride. And, oh, I've so loved the ride that I declared it with my voice. I sing when I am moved inside. My body is intelligent. My heart, a tablet often read. Oh, but my mind is the one who falls apart, As reality hangs constant as stars. When I gaze, I do get lost in them, and confusion is my flower's stem. There is...

I gave him my heart, and he dressed it in honey. He is of a kind, exotic and beautiful. In him, my womb rejoices in dance to the rhythmic heart beat of the drum. He is to me a member of the unknown, and I seek him like I seek the kingdom. I crave the understanding of his mind, for it is vastly different from mine. To understand him is to experience the change I so fervently pray for--that I so des...

He makes me feel as though I could step outside into the night And walk into an endless day Walking through the sky On a path made of sunset Over the night and stars visible below..

Oh, Powerful Sun Illuminated still Like a plant, I reach out to you Until I've had my fill. So, I flower and I fruit and make aromatic scents With my skin living in Perpetual radiance

There is a man In this world Who sets my soul on fire And he knows So he throws his wood To keep it burning brighter Or is it his breath? His oxygen I consume and stay ablaze? Fire with fireIgnited pyre Does he also burn within his gaze? Do we burn the breeze? The water weeps And still I extinguish not And here I'm burning -Forever yearning- For all the reasons I haven't got.

...and not a space was left in the sky that was empty of the pouring rain. I was standing out of reach for fear of the dreaded being wet, but the wind knew better my needs and shifted so that the rain could catch my gaze. It touched my face so softly with a thousand fingers to discover every contour. And every part of me. Hands and feet. Shoulder and knee. Good heavens breathe. The rain--chill, fr...

As I continued my steps and focused my breath as I breathed, I noticed that from that rhythm emerged a melody. And for the life of me, I cannot remember it. It’s as though I have awakened from a dream. It flowed as a wave, to and fro, up and down. And the clouds played that game with the sunshine. And the wind grew stronger when I sweated harder. I smiled when it did, and I forced my gaze upward....

He said he was "cursed with poetry at a young age," like me, and so developed "unrealistic expectations" of love and romance. But he is alive, and the words that molded his mind--our minds--were written by the flesh and heart, like mine. And so I was called to poetry. I am able to love like them, like him. It cannot be unrealistic. What a terrible grave to dig for the intensity...

My favorite thing in this life is being barefoot in the grass, in the wind, in the sun, in a sitting position. The presence of a still company can only bring forth inner peace. I become the peace surrounding me inside of me abundantly. Any movement that I see is a puppeting of the breeze--a display of giggling blades that glisten green.

This is the time when I can lay out to watch and marvel at the sky. I just love it so, and naturally I fall asleep. The sun puts me under. And during my best rest, I can't help but wonder if the sky watches and marvels at ME.

Something has changed. For the sky is overcast and the rain is falling, and they did not bring me sadness. It's a cold rain from which I refrain, but in my heart is gladness. Connected to gray sky pops the earthy green of the organic shape called the tree line. A day like this I once called gloom, but today it's name is refreshing and boon. The sound of rain is like the low hum of a fan th...

A gloomy day is only overcast, dimly lit and sad. Why does the gloom bring sadness, I wonder? Sadness when sunless.. On these days, I wish I could lighten and float and be caught up into the wind--rising and rising until, at last, I am above the cloud barrier. Therein I'd rest upon. Way up there, where good weather is neverending, above the storms and turmoil and sadness. And when the storm pa...

It wasn't made for me, but perhaps it could have been, a sunlit burst of rainbow --there in the sky, Adorned to the right Of the sun-- Oh, beauty-made it was. Waiting patiently as I rounded the corner, as vision freed from the bush that stands there. For a moment, it was all I could see. Then expanded the heavens to complete the picture of a peacefully setting sun. So entered the peace into my hea...

Oh, what it must feel like for the mighty flower to blossom--to stretch out and invite in the day and gazes of many. Watching them, I tend to imagine that peaceful, whole state of being.. “I open up to you, sunlight, after the nightly wait. I bask and take in that which you freely and abundantly offer. Thank you, for I am a smile on a face with closed eyes. I am lungs filled with the fragrance of...

I've never needed your recognition, but because I am glorious, you've always been blinded by me..my glory, shinient and traveling in the wind. And you, refusing to kneel, are left wandering dumb and blind in my light, having not the ability to shine or by any means to create shadow..

Love transforms all that is evil, corrupt, and ill. Every disease of flesh and mind, Love is called to heal. God is Love. God is Good. Love is Good. Good is Love. Love is Power. God is Power. Evil can be driven out. And energy never dies. Evil can be destroyed. Evil is death and lies. Death is restored to Life. Death becomes no more. And then it never was, Not even in myth, fable, and lore. Lies a...

I'm actually really good at it, and I serve it up well, but I choose not to dedicate the time.. ..to dissect your ignorance and show you to yourself in bite-sized, chewable pieces for your mind. Oh how a man can look at you.. and tell you who you are and be completely wrong and see nothing at all..

Everything made beautiful in its time is simply made beautiful when the sun is made of God. If the flower grows itself again, tell me, did it ever really die and decay? Cycles are cyclical things like the snake that swallows its tail. They remind us of infinity just beyond the mortal veil. Everlasting fruit and Evergreens.. Everlasting bloom and Ever-peace.. Eat not of the mushroom tree Or eat it...

With regard to my energy: I'd liken it to the cool and warming air in the mornings of early summer, to the nourishing mists over dew-covered grassy meadows, and to the rising sun on the horizon where joy comes. There are mountains there, too...titans of old, who, rest in the eternal cool and dark of earthen stone. Magnificent and overtaken they are by the lasting peace and green that is called...

I sit here dwelling in my mind for, I cannot find any place outside that I want to go. At times, it's a hazy place without quiet, and I tend to run from the noise. Yet, inherently, I know that there is no such thing as running, for running stirs a storm. Only with beautiful noise can I sedate the storm to create a Calm of my inner turmoil. A Calm storm slumbers in stillness suspended in the wa...

I fell off a cliff, And I fell Into the abyss below. I enjoyed the fall -Enjoyed the blackness Of nothing at all. I feared not the end -Feared not the bottom. It doesn't exist. Through the abyss, I'm falling forever. And falling is bliss. Falling is Bliss. Falling is Bliss.

I can remember wind blowing through screened windows and through curtains made of sheets. There's a certain quiet in the summertime. In the summer heat, there's a certain peace..Sometimes. With nail and hammer, I placed the curtains to discourage wandering eyes, and when the night became undone, they still let in all the light. Brightly colored I kept them for happiness and cheer. And the walls we...