SHINE, SHINE DARK EYES

Shine, shine dark eyes although you cannot see,
Bright gems of light blazing in anguished soul,
Not even blindness can put out the light in me.

How many times from prison bars did you break free?
To live in death this always was your goal,
Shine, shine dark eyes although you cannot see.

Whatever life could throw you fought to be
Victorious over even death bell’s deafening toll
Not even blindness can put out the light in me.

These eyes so dark now just like ebony
That sickness from them once the blinding light stole
Shine, shine dark eyes although you cannot see.

Come with Your light eternal, Love, that we
Might walk together, towards that glorious goal
Not even blindness can put out the light in me.

Together as we walk we’ll make the darkness flee
Nothing can ever quench the light that makes us whole
Shine, shine dark eyes although you cannot see

ROWAN

Rowan,
Your brightness calls,
Draws me on, enfolds me
In the living tree
Marked by time
What have
You seen?
If only you could speak, tell me
Of those who have trod here,
You guard all souls
Shield me

So long
I have been gone,
Since just a tiny babe,
And though I dwelt in farthest fields
Home is
Right here
Protect me now from all that ails
And bring me here to rest
Now, for all time
To come

May I
Now claim my home
Here in this hallowed place
For never did I forget you
Always
You lived
Within a heart that held so much,
Both joy, and sorrow, now
I come back home
To rest

TAKE MY HAND

Take my hand and hear the birdsong,
Smell with me the forest pine,
Feel with me the dew of the morning.

Hear the beat of the bird’s wings flying,
Raise your face up to the moonshine,
Take my hand and hear the birdsong.

Hear the fountain burbling, gurgling,
Taste the taste of wine so fine,
Feel with me the dew of the morning.

Feel the trunk of the old tree leaning,
Touch its bark from ancient time,
Take my hand and hear the birdsong.

Though without sight the world is teeming,
Though unable to walk pure joy is mine
Take my hand and hear the birdsong,
Feel with me the dew of the morning.

THE BURNING DARK

I WROTE THIS ONE LAST AUTUMN

And now
The burning dark
Comes as autumn scorches
Cooling earth with flaming colours,
Fires rage
In souls
Seared by pains of night eternal
Let not these colours scourge
Your dying soul
But fan
Into
Life the embers
Of love laid low by fear
As red hot arrows wounded all
That lived
And grew
In the cold dark earth of winter
Let the dark now hold you
Colours fading,
Peace breathing

LOST WORLDS

Visit
With me lost worlds
That still speak through the gloom
Nature in all its wonder clangs
Chatters
Loudly
What is it saying now to me?
That the sun still shines bright
Warming me while
Birds call

Do you
Hear nature call?
It says so much to me
For I am learning its language
You too
Can learn
This world of sound, the wind blowing,
Brooks singing for joy, I
Know this pure joy
Of sound

THE ANCIENT OF DAYS

Ancient days, old like the paths we tread
Full of all that is
That was and can be
Stretching into the unknown
And back into time
When do the two meet
And is there really no tomorrow
Or yesteryear
Seamless like the sky
From which comes sun and rain
Making rainbows
Arching over life unknown
For who can know
The sum of everything
Or hold time in a crucible
All is One my friend
As you and I are one
In the great Cosmos
Connected
To the Ancient of Days

AND MAY PERPETUAL LIGHT SHINE

And may perpetual light shine on them”
Those words I heard today
Not expecting them to come
Quite suddenly they pierced the air
I raised my head
Looking to the heavenward
As if to take in all my memories
The joy, the pain, the laughter,
Suddenly all were one
Joined together seamlessly
Chickens, corn and sandpits
Apples, nuts and tractors in the fields
Starry nights that made me ask
“Where is God?”
And in my child’s mind’s eye
I saw Him beyond the stars
Swathed in mystery
And yet
So simple
Here, in the evening of my life
I sat, re-connecting with my past
And all of those who went before me
On them and on all my memories the words did fall
“And may perpetual light shine on them

SORRY

I made a lighthearted post about not being able to keep up with reading everyone’s wonderful poetry. Sorry if it offended anyone. I am blind, as many of you know. I am also bed bound at the moment, and unable to function as I would like to. It was really meant as an apology to everybody, because I felt so bad at not being able to read all that I want to read. I value everyone and what you write. Each person is special. It does take a long time for me to read things, because of my blindness, and also posting can be difficult. So I meant no offence to anyone. I thank alk of you who read my poetry for visiting my site. You are all precious.

THIS LAND

Can I claim the land where I am now a foreigner
And maybe always was
As I sit beneath the rowan tree
That sturdily guards all souls
This place was always their home
The home I wanted for myself
For all eternity
That never in time was mine
Though when always so far
I yearned for this place that I called home
I heard so many names
Knew the folks from stories told
And through such tales felt one of them
And now I sit here next to death
And long to claim this land

THE DOOr

Disconnected,
As the day dawns,
I lie here knowing
That today I am still disconnected,
Nothing can change now,
Without some effort
From you,
But effort is too much
As you forge ahead in your world,
One day you too may slow down,
Forced there by degeneration,
And the disconnection hit you,
Brick walls,
Closed doors,
Yes, I sit again
Outside closed doors,
I feel you rush on by,
The door slams in my face,
“No Entry,”
Is the sign for me,
Magnificent in its beauty,
Perfectly executed,
Strong to keep out undesirables,
My wheelchair breaks into a thousand pieces
As the door slams back onto me,
And my heart into a million pieces,
Never to be mended
Unlike the door

KNOCKING ON HEAVEN’S DOOR

Please let me in, to where your God is,
I want to be with Him too,
I want to be where you are,
But I am where I am,
Here,
Outside the door,
Knocking.

You do not even notice me,
Hear me knocking,
Crying, “Let me in,”
Your eyes are full while mine are empty, Like my heart, Straining to get to where you are, Aching To share your joys with you, To be full once again .

Hungry,
I sit at the closed door in my wheelchair, Starving Craving your love and warmth, But your eyes don’t see, Your ears don’t hear My knocking.
You go on your way,
I, invisible,
I cannot share your Feast .

I sit and cry,
Empty yet full,
For my eyes see more than yours do,
My ears hear,
“There’s none so blind as them that cannot see,”
And I am satisfied,
For i see the Cross,
And hear the words,
“Father, forgive them, they know not what they do,”
And to the blind and lame,
” Today you shall be with me in Paradise.”

INNER VOICE

Inner
Voice do you speak
In dulcid tones like dew
Sitting in the early morning
On leaves
Branches
Or do you speak in blaming tones
Telling me of my sin
How do I know
The truth
For long
Siren voices
Sang to me in sweetness
Telling me that they loved me true
Wielding
Secret
Knives ready to stab my soft heart
But now I hear silent
Voices calling
In love
The dew
Is gentle now
Just like the inner voice
Telling me that all is well now
And ever shall be well for love
Shall rule
My heart
Not fear or blame but acceptance
Of all
I am
And now I rest caressed by dew
Refreshed made whole again
Speak, inner voice
The truth

THE GIFT OF THE ROSES

With a gift of roses you touched my world,
One where I lived in my isolation,
Cut off by blindness, my anguish unfurled,
In a silence of sore separation,
I ached for a touch that would break my pain,
Something to bring life to my hurting soul,
Of comfort there seemed not even a grain,
But your gift broke through, and made me feel whole,
In your kindness you gave a healing touch,
Joy broke through then and shattered the silence,
You gave today what I needed so much,
Now my grateful prayer rises like incense,
The perfume of the roses will not fade,
Now the touch of love in my heart is laid.

DIRTY RAG

LOL. NOT SURE THAT THIS IS POETRY BUT IT WORKED FOR ME. Sure you will relate!

Sometimes
A dirty rag
Is what you make me feel
Poring out your shit onto me
And I
Ever
Empathetic listen, take in
Until I am too full
Then you throw me
Away

Consigned
To the dustpan
One day you will find me
Not there for you, and you will howl
Loudly
Wishing
That I was there waiting for you
But you threw me away
And I am gone
For good

ARROWS

Arrows
Pierced me that day
I reeled at the sharp pain
While fuzzy faces laughed and smiled
Hiding
The truth
Alone, I was left to flounder
In the fog of my life
Comfortable
They sat

Blinded
By the bright light
I turned to leave that place
But found myself in empty space
No doors
Open
The vast white space swallowed me up
I did not exist now
Space within doors
Sight gone

THE DAY STRETCHED AND YAWNED

The day stretched and yawned and held out its arms,
A smile graced its face as it bade me “Come,”
So gentle its song as it crooned its charms,
Come nestle and rest, then we will have fun,
I slowly walked forwards and took its hand,
It stroked my head gently and welcomed me,
I felt so safe and I knew I could stand,
That held in its arms I could now be free,
There’d be no more fear, just peace deep within,
What wonderful things this new day would see,
Whatever I’d do, it only could bring
The things that I’d need to help me be me,
This day gave me life as it breathed gently,
I sang my own sweet song oh so softly.

PLAYING

The sunlight plays upon the wall
And I play too within my mind
Dancing to bright tunes that all
Rang in celebratory hall
I remember how he was so tall
One so handsome will I find?
The sunlight plays upon the wall
And I play too within my mind

MOURNING DOVE

This is a bird that we don’t have in our country, but my American friend introduced me to it. It has the most amazing but steangely beautiful call. I wrote this poem after hearing it

The mourning dove cried out one morn
And I cried too in loud lament
Such grief I knew, my heart was torn
The mourning dove cried out one morn
And as I cried I was forlorn
In agony my garments rent
The mourning dove cried out one morn
And I cried too in loud lament

MOURNING DOVE

This is a bird that we don’t have in our country, but my American friend introduced me to it. It has the most amazing but steangely beautiful call. I wrote this poem after hearing it

The mourning dove cried out one morn
And I cried too in loud lament
Such grief I knew, my heart was torn
The mourning dove cried out one morn
And as I cried I was forlorn
In agony my garments rent
The mourning dove cried out one morn
And I cried too in loud lament

I USED TO CARE

I used to care you know.

I sit here in the early morning sun, knowing that it is playing upon my wardrobe doors – white for brightness, but probably now chipped from the constant impact of a wheelchair upon them. On the floor in the corner of the room, a pile of clothes – unruly, uncontained. Pictures on the wall – slanted, not straight, as they used to be. I hardly even remember what they are now, for it is so long since I saw them. Blackberry yoghurt stains on the carpet at the side of my bed – dropped as I tried to place a half eaten container on the chest at the side of my bed (it’s easy to miss when you are blind). The wallpaper is probably peeling off the walls around the window that lets in water, by now.

I used to care. Colour co-ordination. Things in their rightful places. Oh, nothing posh. I never was posh. But I did like things nice. I used to care you see – but now I don’t see. So does it matter any more if things are unruly? If they have a life of their own? Do I see what is happening? No, but I know it is. And how much does it matter?

It matters not, for now, I have other things to think about. Other priorities. And what matters is whether I can live or not.

LIFE is what matters.

FALLING RAIN

And so now I am alone
In the eerie silence of a life gone wrong
Shall I unpack my case
Such as it is?
All that I have is my body
Wracked with pain
But it is mine
No one can steal it from me
Like you stole my soul
I sit here in the dark
Remembering
Is it good to remember?
A line was drawn one day
When the pink blossom bloomed on the trees
And birdsong filled the air
A line which I can never cross over
Again
Never go back
On one side is health,
Busyness
Mountains to climb
On the other side is cancer
Blindness
Confinement
And you chose to abuse that
My helplessness became your fruitfulness
Such as it was
And so where are my fruits now?
Do oranges grow in the dark?
Apples tempt us?
And what of the serpent?
I lie in the dark and the silence
Hearing only the falling rain

THE STRUGGLE

There is a big hill in a beautiful area where we used to go camping, called The Struggle. If you are standing in the valkey below, you can see the cars wending their way up the hill very sliwly and with great difficulty. I wrote this poem because sometimes in life we meet a hill like this, that we have to climb, with what feels to be insyrmountable difficulty. Day after day, the struggle just to live, goes on. That is what this poem is about

Morning comes, the struggle begins
No strength in my body to get out of bed
The pain of my circumstance each day stings

My muscles won’t work each movement brings
Such pain to this body whose legs are like lead
Morning comes, the struggle begins

In the bathroom I cannot see my things
I shout for help, “What’s that you said?”
The pain of my circumstance each day stings

I rest awhile on the linen bin
So many things going on in my head
Morning comes, the struggle begins

I lose my breath i wish I had wings
To fly from here f ind a new place instead
The pain of my circumstance each day stings

Is this what i’ve got for all my sins?
It seems every comfort in life has fled
Morning comes, the struggle begins
The pain of my circumstance each day stings

RIVER

River, I hear you call me to you,
Gone are the days when I walked
On your grassy banks, the wind in my hair,
But still I hear your song,
The air thick with desire,
If just for one more time I could come

On summer days I would often come
Finding peace as I watched you
Around, all that I could desire
My spirits lifted as I walked
Deep within a joyous song
As the wind tossed my hair

Wayward always was my hair
As I felt each season come
Accompanied by a different song
That I sang as I danced beside you
Many miles over time I walked
To walk was always my deep desire

Now I am filled with a deeper desire
So different is my hair
No miles now will ever be walked
Never again will I come
But I never will lose my love for you
Or cease to sing you my song

On my lips is always a song
Born from my deep desire
One day maybe I’ll dance with you
Grow once again my hair
Again and again you whisper “Come”
Remembering how far once I walked

Along your banks many feet have walked
I wonder how many sang a song?
My sweet love, soon I will come
My heart aches, for you are all I desire
See the greying of my hair
But in my heart I carry you

HELD

Still is the world
At the saying of Goodbye
We hold our breath
At the awesomeness
Of that which awaits us
That place where you have gone
A place of light
Too bright for our sullied eyes
And as we say Goodbye
We know our own poverty
Our smallness
In the face of infinity
And we pray
That we too
May approach that place of light
Unworthy though we are
Inspired by love and faith and light
We dare to say
“I too will follow”
And in that moment we are held
We take the Bread
Broken for us
To feed us in our brokenness
Held in the everlasting arms
That never will let us go

WILD WORDS

Sometimes words wobble, and fly in the air,
Then fall down on the ground in a big heap,
People passing by stop and start to stare,
And as they watch the words begin to leap,
No one seems able to catch the wild words,
They have a mind of their own, and want fun,
They start to soar in the sky just like birds,
Watching all the people starting to run,
Telling everyone that words have gone wild,
Wondering what on earth will happen now,
What excitement for every gasping child,
As the adults start to furrow their brow,
But as words fall they create a new space,
Where meaning is made for us to embrace.

AS I KNEEL BEFORE YOU

As I kneel before You, I kiss Your feet,
In that moment we are one,
In suffering sore we each other meet

In the darkness of our grief we each other greet
Yet in the midst we sing our heartfelt song
As I stand before You I kiss Your feet

This darkness shines with light in scorching heat
Searing my soul , the fire of love burns up all wrong
In suffering sore we each other meet

Oh joy unspeakable that nought on earth can beat
My Love and I join with the happy throng
As I kneel before You I kiss Your feet

One day I will take my glorious seat
In that New City where I shall belong
In suffering sore we each other meet

So let me cleave to You my Love so great
Until my time on this dark earth is done
As I stand before You I kiss Your feet
In suffering sore we each other meet

FARMHOUSE

I HAVE BEEN RE-UNITING WITH MY PAST AND THE BEAUTIFUL FARMHOUSE OF MY GRANDPARENTS WHERE I LIVED AS A CHILD. THIS IS A SONNET ABOUT THAT AMAZING PLACE

I think often of the smiling farmhouse
For now it is no more, rased to the ground
“It’s unsafe, needs knocking down” words much worse
Than words ever heard before, their sharp sound
Created a blackness in my heart, death
Was about to come to the happy place
That gave life to this young child’s every breath
That filled her every waking day with grace
As if to defy all words that were said,
The farmhouse refused that black day to die
Many times the wrecking bell lashed its walls
It stood solid and firm, held high its head
Destruction was not to hit its fine halls
I took my cue from the farmhouse so strong
And my strength from beautiful days now gone

BARREN

Nature that day seemed empty not full
Strangely barren in earth’s great womb
My soul stirred long my spirit dull

Soon I heard the shriek of a gull
Something sinister seemed to loom
Nature that day seemed empty not full

Where did they go, I felt a pull
As if to drag me into my tomb
My soul stirred long my spirit dull

Nothing was left in this deathly lull
No birds sang out a glorious tune
Nature that day seemed empty not full

The grass was green but I saw a skull
What happened here in the light of the moon?
My soul stirred long my spirit dull

The mystery lives in the night sky’s thrall
Eerie in the growing gloom
Nature that day seemed empty not full
My soul stirred long my spirit dull

Sent

Waiting For The Azaleas

This is so wonderful for someone who cannot see. Your beautiful descriotion enables me to see so much. Thankyou.

Synchronicity Of The Heart

IMG_3603.jpg

First the buds pop. Then, in the blink of an eye it seems…..azaleas everywhere. Like over night! The only words I can use are orgasmic, ecstatic, sacred, astounding, ethereal, and unfortunately evanescent. Yes, this apotheosis of blossoms and range of Pantone colors from white, to yellow, to shades of orange, and a complete continuum of pinks, reds, and violets, only lasts about two to three weeks at best. Then, we have solid green hedges for the rest of the summer and fall. As soon as the last flower drops, we begin our long wait until next April/early May (depends where you live) when the azaleas will grace us with their presence once again.

Note: No Southern home would be without an azalea bush. Then for the complete summer we have night blooming jasmine, crape myrtle trees, and magnificent magnolia trees. (See the vine in the photo – thats the jasmine…

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ANCIENT FIELDS

Sitting in the pale Spring light
Shimmering fields before my eyes
In times now past I had my sight
To watch the birds my greatest prize

Shimmering fields before my eyes
From which great raptors took their flight
To watch these birds my greatest prize
But now I only mourn my plight

Here then great raptors took their flight
These fields so ancient learned their cries
And now with them I mourn my plight
Knowing full that nature dies

These fields so ancient learned their cries
Absorbed them all without a fight
Knowing full that nature dies
Just for a season all is bright

Absorbing all without a fight
These ancients lived with spirits wise
The sky will soon be turned to night
I sit now in the pale Spring’s light

CONFESSION

And now the dark days lengthen
So many friends have gone
I feel my spirit strengthen
Though so much feels so wrong

So many friends have gone,
Too many now to mention,
And so much feels so wrong,
The world is held in tension

Too many now to mention,
I sing my own sad song,
The world is held in tension
For better days I long

I sing my own sad song,
Free from all pretension,
For better days I long,
Time taught me a lesson

Free from all pretension
With those I live among,
Time taught me a lesson
Don’t join in the throng

With those I live among,
There can be no invention,
Don’t join in the throng,
No need to make impression

With those I live among,
I grieve with deep intention,
No need to make impression,
My time now is not long

I grieve with deep intention,
To a new place I belong,
My time now is not long,
I make my sad confession

To a new place I belong
My eyes detect perfection
I make my sad confession
And now the dark days lengthen