Category Archives: Universal Soul

November 26, 2013 · 5:28 am

Sweet Seduction

Along the blue steel thread of rails,
peace entreats my quiet wanting
in silhouetted oak tree stands
and shadows black, night’s contrast, haunting.

Waxen moon in full delight
calms November’s rolling dells,
strokes the sultry flaxen lea
to render sweet seduction’s spell.

A feathered breeze, a trembling hush
claimed in shuddering wanton fields,
where forlorn apathetic husks
sense love’s touch and so in yield.

Sweet seduction’s mercy,
before my eyes, across this vale,
thieves my lonely heart from worry
by haunting blue reflected rails
that curve the valley floor,
surrender to the sweet wood’s blind,
to mountains rise to blush once more
and there entreat her love in kind…

Beneath the stroke of naked moon,
between November’s blankets furled,
kissed by meadow’s sweetest rills
before the granite mountains curled.

Here dream do I in longing,
atop this post in autumn’s glove,
yearn to kiss her blushing flesh
and draw her close in sacred love.

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November 23, 2013 · 6:27 pm

The Reach

A note beyond the alto’s range,
a secret passed but not the same
as what was so intended.
A thermal carrying eagles high
but falters short to bring them nigh
of what their souls expected.

A river flowing though the thaw
beneath the ice that holds its call
from ever being heard.
A sparrow dreaming of the flight
that brings his spirit to such heights,
yet such denied the bird.

These are the dreams I dream within
my captive spot and holding den,
and in such tease me more –
And so I watch from eyes that plead
to go beyond just what I need
before I reach that fateful shore –

A daisy on a mountain grown
amidst the granite so in sewn
and denied the earth to flourish there.
A salmon on her way to home
upon a rock by fate so strewn
and so denied her purposed care.

A full moon glimpsed behind the cloud,
so to the night is left in shroud,
so fails a night of love.
A heavy cloud without the rain
denies the summer’s parched hot plain
so presses heavy from above.

A hope, a glimpse beyond the now
that shines a light upon the “how”
a life anew might rise again.
A truth, that when it’s laid to rest
releases what is second best,
yet denies the strength to win.

It is these things I see in life
that paint the hope within the strife,
that hold the hands just out of reach,
that paint the colours through a bleach
of what is wanted most.

A hope, a dream, maybe a ghost –
or just what’s meant to be –
I pray to live enough to see…

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November 18, 2013 · 5:10 am

November

Strained across November’s sky,
unbroken lines that haunt the sigh
of coursers’ wings in gentle hush
that to this barren day give rush
of blood to see them there.

Silver hints amongst the trees
where forest kneels to open lea
to hear the prattling golden grass,
hear each whispered breath sneak past
defined in winter’s care.

Tho’ burgeoning from November’s mood,
the cold and hollow bend the wood,
hold the stoic silence keen
where few a passerby are seen
and fewer yet remain.

That tho’ denied, the autumn’s musk
enchants the air from twig to husk,
mends the turn in hope decayed,
holds to season’s last breath played,
that by the winter gain

a promise for sweet spring’s reprise,
by still endurance and patient eye
may push a sprig through warmer duff,
mix the autumn’s scent with stuff
to bless life’s cycle spent…
fragrant blossom, fragrant scent…

Yet here today hold fast in hope
amidst this season’s depth, must cope
and through this pause remain.

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November 13, 2013 · 4:51 am

The Old Couple in the Park

With trembling hands she reaches,
she reaches just to touch his face
where trembling melts in sweet caress,
caress strokes soul in sweetest grace.

Through wrinkled eyes he looks to her,
to her, his queen, his love, his wife.
Feels her warmth in aging hands,
aging hands that share his life.

She feels the stubble cross his cheek,
his cheek that’s aged and thinly drawn.
Into his eyes she deeply falls,
deeply falls where love’s been long.

He smiles into her tender eyes,
tender eyes of angel’s love.
He softly strokes her aging hand,
her aging hand light as a dove.

She smiles, he winks,
he winks, she beams,
she beams, he shines
and into love they fall it seems.

Gently aging beauty
when held transfixed by soul,
by soul in love eternal,
in aging ne’er one grows old.

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October 31, 2013 · 3:16 pm

All Hallows Eve

All_Hallows_Eve

Sit still beneath the full moon’s stare
in heart of woods where few souls dare
to pause in quiet, rest and listen,
to hear the babbling brook that glistens
eerily on all hallows night,
by falling shadows and dancing light,
for sighs that come in moans and stirs
twixt shadowed breeze and moonlight’s blur.

Sit still beside the brook and path
and into depths of lost souls hath
ye found the opened door to death,
left ajar by those who’ve left
to join a chorus of frightful moans.
On hallows eve they stir and roam
to free the burden of their demise,
expose their deathly secrets, rise
from grave and headstone broken
to seek these woods and brook’s words spoken,
that harken all lost souls to come,
release their painful burden, some.

So if thee listen close and still
thou’ll hear the souls speak to the will
of babbling brook and forest’s moon,
bring forth their image to float and swoon
upon the forest trail,
curse the stream, haunt and wail.

Yet if the truth be strong in thee
sit by brook and path to see…
Yet if thou heart is black with lies
upon this path, by brook, might die!

For horror’s strong deep current runs
where darkness kept, where souls are summed.
So hold thy truth in hand, and fast,
that thou be strong when midnight cast.
And if ye spirit strong and sure
ye might just hear the closing door
that creaks and moans at one a.m.,
there seal the lost souls in again!

Beware! For once the door is closed,
if lies be thine, or truths untold,
this door in closing might ye catch,
and behind with all lost souls be latched!

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October 23, 2013 · 2:56 pm

The Arc

Spun between two points in time,
vectors balanced to purposed end,
hold truth to chords of life once struck,
and reach to ancient hands does lend.

Therein lies the arc of present
stretched in frozen moment’s flux,
whereby decisions roll the view
to what we witness, what we trust.

Amidst the ether, frozen there,
the works of man and nature framed
in temporal need and thoughts of God,
summed in living’s passioned flame.

The arcs of all free willed in living
do stitch a common temporal fabric,
that pulls, as gravity, twixt motioned arcs,
to influence “now” to peace, or tragic.
There are no failings of interaction
for influence is a duty, thus
enhance those close to see the truth,
share the witness, share the trust.

Peace, compassion in calmness lay
where flux amidst the ether stands
to give a grip to hopeful point,
to shape tomorrow by merit’s hands.

In every moment’s fractioned fraction,
points of choice give rise to lend
every soul a chance to change
the path to future’s arc, and bend
the fabric to a peaceful state,
smooth the wrinkles, soften lines,
there change the world to what we choose,
stretch the hope beyond our time…

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October 7, 2013 · 4:29 am

The Sea

DSCF4951a

Angel’s echoed voices ring
in timbre stretched and low,
beg to call all spirits home
across the distant water’s flow.

Soft remorse in beckoning
creams the ether still to air,
draws a waltz of deafened count,
holds the note eternal there.

Softly rolls the surf forgiving
icy cold from black,
gladly bounces dusk’s last winking
as sparkled souls cross ebbing tack.

Deep the voices resonate
and dwindle closed the shrinking light,
call in sorrowful murmurs,
“all souls return, to home, take flight”.

Silence summed in evening’s break,
calm surf entreats the lonely sea
spun in threads of heaven’s mercy,
one hushed string bowed eternally.

“Quiet edge of angel’s making,
grace be called in sea’s deep strand,
bless the souls there in your keeping,
grant them peace in angels’ hands”.

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September 27, 2013 · 3:07 pm

Aspen Fold

the road that beckons...

the road that beckons…

When still the summer’s air is held
and road swept dust breathes dry and fair,
when sweet the colored fall’s elixir stands
the musk to focus there
upon the change of season…

‘Tis in the alpine’s aspen folds
where mountain’s heart and nature’s soul
reveal a seam where moments hold
a secret path and reason,
as to “why” your heart is beckoned forth
to lead the path on endless course,
“why” you can’t resist the steps
that pull you toward the shadowed bend,
“why” you thrill in falling leaves
and golden light brought back again.

Drunken steps by autumn’s call
bring childish glee and fear that stalls
the moment for unknowns,
but strikes a chord of going home
when ‘round the bend the lea unfolds
beneath the mountain’s distant stance –
that there on meadow’s edge you dance
without a thought of time…

Yet still the yearning beckons on
as through the field the path lays long
and narrow –
Draws you to the forest edge
where jumping creek and hush are heard,
‘neath rustling gold and kind jay-bird –
to precipice and mountain’s ledge!

… then as you flush in hesitation… it’s there…

across the valley’s whispered song
an honest spark of soul sings on
and thrills you to the marrow!
… and with your soul entwines,
returns the truth you long to find,
graces calm your weary mind
so grants you not a care…

So should it be your soul is called,
or by September’s drive you find
that sweetest gentle winding road
that exits from the corner’s blind…
There be sure you wander wholly
to where your heart is stirred,
and find your simple nature solely
in autumn’s musk and aspen’s word…

DSC_1853

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September 26, 2013 · 3:57 am

The Parting

A single star on edge of night grants a tender blush to snow
that flits above a granite spire,
caught in dance ‘neath full moon’s fire,
enrapt by starlight’s dance and flow.

A tender love for deepest winter spawns a ray of fire light
that graces full the midnight sky
in brilliant arcs of short lived sighs
and colored wakes of blue and white.

Polar lights court the single star’s ambition toward the north,
so pulses bright in trepidation,
pulls the wind’s anticipation
in dancing snowflakes spiral worth.

This simple star, this hallowed night, atop the snow caked mountain,
holds the blossomed heaven’s smile,
blessed in frozen winter’s wile
that burns the heavens white in fountains.

Lo, the east grows rosy red, burgeoning morning’s call.
This single star drifts to the west
holding midnight winter’s best
and to the mountain appears to fall.

Old Sol in true love reaches forth with kindness toward this one
that reaches back in glimmers
through timeless snow flake shimmers
and blows a winter’s kiss to sun.

One last stretch across the heavens pulls a brilliant arc of light
that lends the evening’s dance to day,
mends the mountain’s cry to play
and sparkles deep for morning’s light.

Through subtle warmth in rising and all that morning keeps,
it’s sadness in this golden charting
that points to two true loves in parting
above the snow blown mountain steeps.

Inspired by the musical composition “The Parting”, by Michael Hoppe

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September 24, 2013 · 4:00 am

The Mighty Quill

Grand! The mighty feather tears a flurried wind cross the page,
tip of quill enticed to drink, and drunken pours it out in rage!

Rips the fabric white in arcs that smolder in the drying!
Dips its nose again to sneer, and smears emotions in the trying.

Pen in thoughtless hand so stained and blotted by the pain within,
against its will is forced to kill the very page with sin.

Seduced in errant commas, gastric spelling of acrid words,
then bends to touch the love therein with gentle kiss of humming birds.

Then splash! Again is wrought in flurried panic fanfare.
Scratches out a misplaced phrase and stands amidst the blotch to stare…

And there the heart is landed, softly in a sudden thought,
that to the page the pen, in grace, pours a drop of love there wrought.

Tis nothing short of miracle, tis nothing less than mad,
but through the pen and paper, the hand dispelled its core of “sad”.

So the page in smoking honey, grants the pen and quill a rest,
gives the binder’s due in running scratch and scrawl so acquiesced.

Down the pen, corked the well,
closed the book and candle shelled.

Peace… at last.

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