rhymetimebluezpoetryblog: October 2011

You Have Touched Eternity

Come to the rainforest.
Leave no footprints here.
Let its roots absorb you
And as you disappear

You’ll turn to energy

Within a million trees,
A part of wind and raindrops
Creating melodies.

Let the night surround you

As Earth makes you her own
And feasts upon your spirit
Until one piece of bone

Is all that marks your passage

So future hunters know
You have touched eternity
And helped the forest grow.

© 2010 Pam H. Murray

God’s Light

His light sifts through the golden leaves
That cloak the ancient towering trees
And light the path that calls me on
Through open gate to memories.

I simply planned to walk right by

And carry on into my day
But dancing light won’t let me pass.
Fall colours make me want to play

Or sit upon an old stone bench

Beneath the trees with pen in hand
And let the power fill a page,
But how to speak words quite this grand.

I let the leaves sing to my soul

And scents of Autumn touch my skin
Bathed in God’s light and generous gifts
Until my head begins to spin.

© 2011 Pam H. Murray

San Clemente Beach

A sandy beach stretched miles along the shore

The dance of gilded waves that come and go

My silent dreams and secret memories

Those special tides of life that ebb and flow

All wrap around me as I leave a trail

Between the rocks, into the changing sea.

I watch the pelicans and feel their joy

Expressed across the sky. It pulls to me

Until I turn and see you at my side

And know a peace of mind so self aware

That nothing from my past can break its hold

And I’m in awe of all this life we share.

Battles

On this field a battle fought

By boys turned into men,

So many died, so many maimed,

None dared to dream of when

They’d walk once more through neighbourhoods

Where laughing children played

Unaware, in peaceful dreams,

Of sacrifices made.

Yet, in the dark, in pain and tears

Sit mother, wife and son

To mourn the ones who can’t come home

From battles fought and won.

(Inspired by the movie “Glory”)

A Gathering

The sounds of quiet industry

In buildings steeped in history

Surround the little coffee shop

That echoes with the steady drop

Of caffeine as the world slips by.

The Winter clouds have claimed the sky

But here there is a gathering

Of faithful friends who shine like Spring.

The Little Woodland Bridge

Her graceful ivory lines

Set in a crimson bower

Trimmed with green and yellow lace

Putting on her autumn face

Shine in a sunlit hour;

A little woodland bridge,

The finale of a dream

As water rushes past below

And voyeuristic breezes blow

Reflected in a stream

Give me a place to walk

Recalling passing years

And changes that have bridged each one,

The many races lost and won,

A bridge of hopes and fears.