It was in the early morning, blackbird song and
long wet grass, shuffling through making trails in dew
In the early mornings of my life.
Something of magic in the sun slanting
through wet dripping branches,
pearls of water drops in spidery webs enchaining
blade to blade in the long wet grass.
It was in the early morning rising from warm sheets
when hearing that cuckoo summons from
far distant woods, calling , welcoming me forth
into the dewy day, doors unbolted, stepping from within
dark walls, shadowed kitchens, cold and stony floor.
Stepping forth and catching at my heart.
They were.
Sun’s rays, dewy grass, pearls of water drops.
Mar 3, 2018
Mar 3, 2018 at 2:05 PM UTC
In wild, wild moments there’s the rush of wind
Upon my face, streaming out strands of hair
As I run down hills of mind on lissom legs,
Twigs snapping under my feet while I remain
Childlike and playful, blissful and unaware.
But all this in my mind because
I cannot do this barefoot running anymore.
Can’t run at all. Those days of mad abandon gone.
But I can still walk slowly on the nice neat paths
Among the bluebells and my heart can still
Skip, dance and jump for joy and sing its song
Feb 12, 2018
Feb 12, 2018 at 1:49 PM UTC
I was born in eternity
Where Mother and Father are One.
Born in the sound-filled silences of space
Where stars are made from swirling dust
And life in sudden proton meetings
Springs into being; male and female,
Atoms that split smaller, smaller ever smaller
To the never-ending core of |Being.
From these I too became a Man,
Leaving my vast and luminous mansions for your sake,
Letting myself grow smaller, smaller to fit your minds;
A ***** in an egg, my beginning the same as yours.
Sons of Man, Sons of God,
I will show you how atoms come together,
Larger, larger, ever larger.
Plants, animals, men, suns, galaxies beyond time,
Growing in size and structure.
And you will grow with me through the dark tunnels of the mind,
Slipping from Death to Life, from Dark to Light,
Till we together shall inherit
Those boundless, beautiful places
Where Father and Mother are One.
Feb 10, 2018
Feb 10, 2018 at 1:44 PM UTC
In my back yard are growing things
and tubs of this and that.
I lean out of the window
and watch the sun go down
on my back yard.
The bats come flying from the pines.
In circles, round and round,
they skirt the trees
and make their squeaky sound,
the bats in my back yard.
Just listen to that last, sweet chirp
of blackbirds fluting song,
as sleepy birds now roost
in my backyard.
I listen for a long, long time
And watch the sun go down,
peaceful and tranquil
in my back yard.
Loretta Proctor
Feb 10, 2018
Feb 10, 2018 at 7:01 AM UTC
Early morning
It was in the early morning, blackbird song and
long wet grass, shuffling through making trails in dew
In the early mornings of my life.
Something of magic in the sun slanting
through wet dripping branches,
pearls of water drops in spidery webs enchaining
blade to blade in the long wet grass.
It was in the early morning rising from warm sheets
when hearing that cuckoo summons from
far distant woods, calling , welcoming me forth
into the dewy day, doors unbolted, stepping from within
dark walls, shadowed kitchens, cold and stony floor.
Stepping forth and catching at my heart.
They were.
Sun’s rays, dewy grass, pearls of water drops.
Feb 10, 2018
Feb 10, 2018 at 6:47 AM UTC