Silence is Golden
Yet
There are Times
it's just Downright Lonesome
~ ~ ~
~* * * * *~


Copyright © January 2015 Christi Michaels. All Rights Reserved.

caterpillar crawls
inching slowly towards the green
silently transforms*


Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.

I remember Love
a melding complete and fine
intimacy both ******
a union fulfilling~Divine

defining my forever
understood magic shared
held each day with tenderness
knowing how much We cared

I remember being satisfied
feeling soft, deep down deep
believing You and Me
described the meaning complete

knew what defined forever
understood magic shared
held each day with tenderness
knowing how much We cared

yes I remember Love
feeling soft, deep down deep
A melding perfect and fine
defining my forever
a union, fulfilling ~Divine

~●~♢~●°●⊙●°●~♢~●~


Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.
Soft Deep Down Deep

~Christi Michaels~April 2015~

●~°~♢●⊙●♢~°~●

I remember Love
a melding complete and fine
intimacy both ******
a union fulfilling~Divine

knew what defined forever
understood magic shared
held each day with tenderness
palpable how much We cared

I remember being satisfied
feeling soft deep down deep
believing You and Me
described the meaning complete

knew what defined forever
understood magic shared
held each day with tenderness
palpable how much We cared

yes I remember Love
feeling soft deep down deep
A melding complete and fine
knew what defined forever
a union, complete~Divine

~●~♢~●°●⊙●°●~♢~●~


Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.

great sadness~sorrow
lurking deep beneath laughter
holding hands as one*



Copyright © 2014 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.

*
color buff..honey, mellow
sandy beach
soft 'n creamy
golden yellow

cascading the horizon 
rising to take flight
illuminous
radiant desert
in full moons sight

soft curves flowing
bending in
to roll out
over muscles
planes, ridges
territories
luscious, full, round

breath of air brings coolness
with it's gentle touch
warmth settles down
soft, relaxing
cloak wrapped 'round

my skin is my protector
the space I live within
the most
vulnerable part of me
exposed for all to see

so soft, luscious to the touch
sensitive beyond compare
holds memories, desires
of moments
wondrous
exquisite shares


Copyright © 2014 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.

laying in stillness
one can perceive energy
swirling trapped within*


Copyright © 2014 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.

rewrite this story
in way its never been told
ready to unfold


Copyright © 2014 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.

~ω~⊙~ω~

someday you will see
sweet tender moments a gift
not to be ignored

~⊙~ω⊙ω~⊙~


Copyright © 2014 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved

°••°••°••°
°•°◇°•°

There are no
Monsters here...

this, the
abandoned
soft, fertile soil,
that was
to feed the
Family Gardens.

No evil creatures, lurking behind
these timid
hurting hearts.

a painful place...
this invasive, pervasive,
clusterfuck
of Us .

Here lay
The raw,
The ragged
mashed up
mis-understandings.
An onslaught
of hurts,
that float and fester
in our cauldron
of tears.

'Canvas of Colors'
tells Our story...
Melding together
The frozen and
unthawed moments of
all the
Precious
Forever
Embraces

There are no Monsters here

We are the tender
beings that continue
to breathe ragged
after the forest fire,
tripping through
Crumbling Ashes
turned wet black.
Dank and slippery.

Yearning to find
strong footing
amongst these
ruins of our
own doing

No evil creatures, lurking behind
these timid
hurting hearts

There are no Monters here

* * * *
Today, a breeze rides thru
the window across her bed,
reaching me on the other side.
My clean bare feet resting near.

The sanctuary,
sheets so Soft
comforters comforting.
Flowers fragrant,
her colors, fresh each day.

Her body has taken shape,
like the center of a spiral shell.
A soft curled position.
Hands tucked. Delicate cheeks
resting upon them.

Two years now wondering
will her life return.
The pain pushes through her
too much to bear.
She awaits for the inevitable.
The deliverance.

I am watching over.
One of her people
this time in her life.
There are the others,
tending the difficult task
of daily living.
The dearest ones.
Facing the inevitable
hurt of losing her.

I am one of the blessed ones.
Chosen to care and
weave my love,
into the tenuous, quiet oasis
that has become her life.

Understanding,
wisdom and grace, envelop us.
A delicate tenderness abounds,
these precious moments of our day.



Copyright © 2014 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved

I aspired towards being
thoughtful
Since I was a little girl
Watching the other kids
Helping out in our family's world

I worked towards being
thoughtful
as a young teen
Volunteering my time
Making sure I was never mean

I strived towards being
thoughtful
becoming a young woman
Being there for all my friends
Careful of others feelings

I enjoyed being
thoughtful
When I became a mom
Letting them know how
much they are loved
Making sure my children
grew strong

I thought that being
thoughtful
was a trait I longed to be
yet have managed
thoughtlessly
to push those I love away
from me


Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.

~Christi Michaels~January 2015~

Always too Much
Followed by too Little
Flawed in my ability
To understand
how to balance the two

Always too Much
Followed by too Little
Left with not knowing what to do.

Since the day of my birth
Till the day of today
My own nemesis
Every step of the way

As if the wrong download
was set into place
Incongruent with my gentle beauty
My comfortable face
Always too Much
Followed by too Little

I am flawed in my ability
Born without the understanding
Of how to balance the two
Always too Much
Followed by too Little
Left with not knowing what to do


Copyright © 2014 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.

Mark Cleavenger & Christi Michaels  
   * ~ * ~ *
Aging with Grace
As Fruit is to It's Tree
Ripe...Now Ready
To be Set Free
Seasons of Harvest
Shall Never Cease
Growing Ever Forward
From Vanity to Peace

Conflicts Between
Instinctively Known
Able to Transcend
Willing to Grow
At what Point will
My Time Here Cease
I Await Transition
From Vanity to Peace

Lessons from Our Youth
Bring Us to Ponder
Culmination of Our Years
Age Reveals Such Wonder
Relevance upon Sunrise
Fulfilled by Sunset
I Yearn to Transcend
From Vanity to Peace

I Strive for Spiritual Contentment
Releasing all Resentment
My Ego Served Well
Now its Time to let Go
Looking Towards Future
My True Self to Show

From Vanity to Peace is What I Seek
From Vanity to Peace it is
There I Shall Peak
From Vanity to Peace,
Of this I Do Ponder
From Vanity to Peace,
My life's True Hunger


A Native American Aphorism...
"No Spiritual Wise Man ever Yearned to be Younger"

Conception: Mark Cleavenger
Verbiage & Editing: Christi Michaels
Copyright © 2014 Mark Cleavenger. Christi Michaels. All Rights Reserved.

▪●☆●▪
Swirls of verbiage
begin to settle.
My wish..
that they land
to connect a thought.
Overflowing as
grapes cascading atop
sides of vessel
butter cup yellow.
Fruit of the
darkest purple persuasion.

I have visions.
Ribbons of colour.
Movements of flutter
Wet paint on pallette,
waiting for a
canvas to present itself. 

Shambolic as to how to
put it all together.
Can almost sense
the fit,
yet unable to develop
the arrangement.
The words, 
the vision
the pigments are there,
on the tip of my mind.

I wonder if, in the event
it all came spilling out,
I would be brave
enough to reveal.
Begin to heal.
If my canvas of words and
colors could describe.

Maybe then, it would all melt
together, becoming the
black of all colors, the no color...
allowing me
to begin anew.

▪○☆○▪

Copyright © 2016. Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved

* * * *
It is essential to understand the difference
between Voices being used Against Us
From the Voices within Our Minds
that we use against Ourselves

THESE THINGS I KNOW TO BE TRUE {101}
{A COLLECTION}

Copyright © 2014 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.

****** against the cliff,
caught in a vortex.  
Whirlpool of relentless force,
pulling me down, down, down.
Sound...deafening~
Obliterating all sense of direction.

I succomb to the waves.
****** out, pulled in.
Riptide determined to
carry me under.
Spared by the mercy
of an upper current that
carries me weightless out and
over the break.

Impelled by Grace
greater than the Power at hand,
My body finds the sand.
I lie upon the beach,
all fight left behind.
The Ocean claims my strength
No question who has won...**

Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved

****** against the cliff
caught in a vortex  
whirlpool of relentless force
pulling me down, down, down
Sound...deafening
Obliterating all sense of direction

I succomb to the waves
****** out, pulled in.
Riptide determined to
pull me under
spared by the mercy
of an upper current that
carries me weightless out and
over the break

Impelled by Grace
greater than the Power at hand
My body finds the sand.
I lie upon the beach,
all fight left behind.
The Ocean claims my strength
No question who has won**

Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.

~Christi Michaels~January 2015~

We could talk about Us
honest, open, kind
find a mid point
that makes sense
for both Our minds
lay out confusion
smooth it out right
no more discomfort
enveloping precious nights
Our puzzle all in pieces
need to reconnect
find the matching patterns
place them back correct
disheartening
so much anger
beneath the day to day
want Our world right again 
make this heart hurt go away.
take a few steps back
embrace a new fresh start
hope for Our future
things come together
not fall apart


Copyright ©  2015 Christi Michaels
All Rights Reserved.

These wounds are mine
I claim them.
I am the one that allowed
them to happen.
Opened myself up.
Engaged in the rage
and Drama.

50 years of my 60,
have only thought
how I could do no harm to others.
I was my children’s protector,
The worlds advocate.
Yet, I have allowed so much
harm to come to me.

These wounds are mine.
I push them back into
The darkness through
which they came.
That is how I smile and love
through each moment.

These wounds are my own
They are mine
They belong to me

~Christi Michaels~December 2015~

the air presents tranquility
zephyr winds which blow on high
swirling within the troposphere
veiled serenity
clouds stealthy shift
covering brilliant, poignant stars
air masses
a juxtaposition
tension exists between...
omnipresent
yet unseen.
the sky illuminates..sparks of light
swarms of fireflies 
ubiquitous in flight
there is a calm
steady as a drone
unwavering in its commitment
to a reality yet unknown.

till the shift proceeds
balance moves to tilt
calm planes of matter
Present ready to meld

celestial balance
no longer in alignment
exploding outward 
defying confinement
fragile realization
of a squall revealed
friction surmounts
air becomes thick
atmosphere now dense
expanding as it pulls in

a tempest has arrived
opposition exists
shards of electricity
violently ripping open
the sky above

zephyr winds which
blow on high
the inevitable calm before the storm

* * * * *
Copyright © 2014 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.

Christi Michaels MoonFlower
Jul 2016/ repost

Zinnias

I came upon
a parade of
Zinnias today...
lined along the
pave-way,
wild and wily.
An infinite variety
of colorful heads
popping up and out,
like eyes of
wary prairie dogs,
on the lookout
for action.

Thought of you...
the flower pods
you gave me,
filled with
seeds aplenty
to plant in the spring.
Knew just where
they would go.
Imagined my
hands in the
welcoming earth,
sowing them at
just the right depth.

They would grow,
reaching with their
long thin frames.
Vigorously tall
and full of
Summers' brightness.
Symmetrical flowers
filled with attitude
towards the sun.

Flourishing in cracks along  
sidewalks
and driveways.
Finding comfort, feeling free
in the most limited
of spaces.

Yet...I did not
plant them.
Aware that I am
not able, just now,
to make such a commitment.
To water and ****.
Ensuring that they
would reach their full potential.
A simple promise of one season.
To nourish a delicate,
perfect Zinnia.

I came upon a parade of Zinnias
today..lined along the pave-way,
wild and wily. An infinite variety
of colorful heads popping up
and out, like eyes of
wary prairie dogs,
on the lookout for action.

Thought of you...the flower heads
you gave me, filled with seeds
aplenty to plant in the spring.
Knew just where they would go.
Imagined my hands in the
welcoming earth, sowing
them at just the right depth.

They would grow, reaching
with their long thin frames.
Vigorously tall and full of
summers brightness.
Symmetrical flowers
filled with attitude
towards the sun.
Flourishing in cracks along  
sidewalks and driveways.
Finding comfort and feeling free
in the most limited of spaces.

Yet...I did not plant them.
Aware that I am not able,
just now, to make such a commitment.
To water and ****. Ensuring that they
would reach their full potential.
A simple promise of one season.
To nourish a delicate, perfect Zinnia.


~Christi Michaels~July 2015~

Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.

I came upon a parade of
Zinnias today...
lined along the pave-way,
wild and wily.
An infinite variety
of colorful heads
popping up and out,
like eyes of
wary prairie dogs,
on the lookout for action.

Thought of you...
the flower heads you gave me,
filled with seeds aplenty
to plant in the spring.
Knew just where they would go.
Imagined my hands in the
welcoming earth, sowing
them at just the right depth.

They would grow,
reaching with their
long thin frames.
Vigorously tall and full of
Summers' brightness.
Symmetrical flowers
filled with attitude
towards the sun.

Flourishing in cracks along  
sidewalks and driveways.
Finding comfort and feeling free
in the most limited of spaces.

Yet...I did not plant them.
Aware that I am
not able, just now, 
to make such a commitment.
To water and ****.
Ensuring that they
would reach their full potential.
A simple promise of one season.
To nourish a delicate,
perfect Zinnia.


~Christi Michaels~July 2015~

Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.