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  Jun 2017 Mary-Eliz
Lora Lee
I  wish
to have
a love
not swathed
over futile lines
of white washed
paper flowers
that creep up
upon the trellis
as I stand
in frozen
princess-like
stance
but wild horses
ready to break
down the door
as they burst in
to capture me
their perfect
imperfections
matching mine
as we dance the dance
of intimate waves

I am ready
To be shaken
in the wind
my heart a-stir
yet gently grounded
as leaves fall
to the ground
I want the magic
of the small things
to light me up
even during times
of routine
Yes the stars are vast
And we will be under them
As we gaze beyond time
Yet also
create our
special brand of wonder
within the tiny ways
of the day to day
  Jun 2017 Mary-Eliz
SøułSurvivør
>¡<
       ^¡^

            ^¡^
>¡<

Mourning doves
        lament the dawn
The air is filled
           with clucking song
Mockingbirds
        sing sweet and high
Pigeons reach
                  to touch the sky
Gamble Quail
             swoop low to ground
Cactus wrens
         make chuckling sounds
Desert Thrashers
                go "tsk, tsk, TSK!"
Flickers pound
                  the satellite discs
Feathered finches
          search the stones
Light as clouds
                  with hollow bones
I wake up
           to symphonic calls

Desert birds...

                   I love them ALL!


SøułSurvivør
(C) 6/11/2016
Sitting outside I love to watch
and listen to my neighborhood
buddies. They ROCK!

There's GOT to be a God to
               make such creatures!
  Jun 2017 Mary-Eliz
Born
When poets thought I was dead
When my ashes were  scattered
When I was  running
and my heart was stuck on a barbed wire


When I am  too old to create rhymes
couldn't pull heartstrings with my ink
or color a beautiful city with crayons

When my words were plagiarized
and I fell victim to the inevitable  

When the tsunami tides were approaching
and you sent me a rhythmic piece
to keep me company

When I could barely form words,
that would impress my shadow
When you lighten up my bolt
by commenting a sacred criticism and love for my pieces
Dedicated to all the poets in HP
Mary-Eliz Jun 2017
I see you there
suspended for a time
between the shadow
and the light.

You look pale
but peaceful,
in a dream state.

I rest awhile,
a shallow sleep,

then I awake

knowing…

without words
my mind whispers

it’s time

I gently wipe your lips,
brush a stray hair
from your forehead.
It’s all I know to do.

Then I sing
a cherished lullaby
hoping you hear me
hoping it wraps you in love
as my arms wrapped
around you
as a child.

I hold your hand,
kiss your forehead.
In that instant I see
and feel all you’ve been
all that is you

tiny wrinkled infant
delightful, smiling six-month old
curious toddler
proud school age
struggling teen
loving adult

realizing
we're losing all of these,
all that you've been
all that is you

then

I feel your spirit leave…

for that brief moment
I’m overcome with a calm
I can’t describe.

A gift rare and precious –

as I was there
when you entered the world
I was with you
when you left.
     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~        

"The butterfly counts not months but moments and has time enough."  
Rabinadrath Tagore
We lost our son to a brain tumor. He fought bravely and determinedly for seven years, enduring two surgeries, radiation, Gamma knife "surgery", chemotherapy and clinical trials. He never lost his sunny smile or determination. He only let go when he knew it was time, slipping into unconsciousness shortly after his two brothers (his best friends) arrived to say goodbye. He remained in that suspended state for two days. On the third day the four of us gathered for dinner and shared thoughts about him and our life with him. We cried, we laughed, we shared memories. Later that night he let go. I will always believe, being the caring and generous person he was, that he heard us talking and knew that, as hard as it would be, we would be okay.
Mary-Eliz Mar 2018
Let your life lightly dance on the edges of Time
like dew on the tip of a leaf.


- R.Tagore
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