Infrared light
black light secrets
blue battered sun
yellow
outrage,
tricksters in paradise
loading up
the gun
wild fire
caged in Ice
made it twice
as fun
beer bellied
acrobats
bouncing off the wall
blaring on
the run
caught the bus
to
Cambridge,
Eyebrows filling
the space
of another persons
world,
underlining
their names,
curious
questions
bright with colors,
the honey fist
of Isis biting a coin
for authenticity
pull me from the abyss,
endless sleep
these Maritime martyrs
at the expense of a soul
does she really know,
to what depths
we dive to save
time in squares,
trenches,
backwater streets
in tired boxes,
men throw shoes
at singing alley cats,
tears and thoughts
litter the sheets.

Somewhere
behind the poses
lie the real dreams
of the Roses,
they're drinking wine
but thinking gin
and how they
torched that place
with sin.
A taste of pure
before the cut
left her feeling
anything but...
Somewhere
behind the poses
lie the real dreams
of the Roses,
they're thinking wine
but drinking gin
and how they
torch that place
with sin.

Golden laced
repeat patterns dance
beneath closed lashes
Sunlight finding it's way

through shimmering ripples, 
I see before me
Woman of the Water.
Stance of resilience,

silloute to sky. She
skims the surface.
An apparition.
This Goddess dancing atop

the waves. Paddle in hand,
solid upon her watercraft.
She knows her strength, gliding
above a sparkling world of secrets.*

~Christi Michaels~June 2015~

Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.

The dusk came;
I watched the moon glowing,
and there I have it,
a word to describe the feeling when you’re bluer than blue;
Yellow, darling,
that’s what it felt like, right?
Glowing, but empty.
It’s time to let go of those
who lift you up just to leave you emptier
than when they found you.
Remember how the sun sets to make way for the moon?
Well, this I tell you:
The moon leaves for a brighter day.
The dawn came;
I watched as the sun turned slowly
from red
to bright orange.
It’s the morning,
and
it’s
beautiful.
It’s time to rise and shine darling.
Rise above the horizon
and shine brighter.

To become your own sun,
to realize that you are the world,
and that
the people,
and the places,
and the phrases
and words
and thoughts
and ideas
that revolve
and pass around you
are
to each
their own solar systems.
It was wrong of them to tell us
that no man is an island.
Each one of us is an island,
and it is when you
peek into
The
Looking
Glass
that you realize
that some islands
have beacons
and some have
watchtowers,
yet all of them
are searching
for another light.
To shine in their way;
to lead,
or be lead
home.”

— *Y.O. & D.C.

Before the light comes,
the wind comes.
The wind of God.
The wind of God travels
all over the Earth,
awakening the night-sleeping birds,
bringing freshness to every land.
New hope, even where we are troubled,
or grieving, or suffering.
Often these days, this wind of God
blows through my open heart.
And it frees me to love totally,
to love innocently, to love bravely,
As God loves us.

Like a small bird
gathering bright objects for her nest,
I am gathering life.

Hands which reached out to me lead me on,
so I left at their bidding
for an ocean in the East.

Traveling through the night
as if lost in a waking dream,
I came at last to her proximity
and slept in an unknown room.

In the morning light,
beyond the highways,
I suddenly saw her, all April morning
blue and still.
Ocean water bathed my feet,
rinsed the crystal beads and pearls
I had worn to greet her.

Deep in the woods now, I see temples everywhere.
In the woodland light, some churches are.
Pagodas of bark and moss in the filtered light,
Ice caverns blue and still begin to melt
beside the waterfall that thunders down,
breathing mist in our faces, garlanding itself
in rainbow light.

In the small city airport
I am folded into the arms of my mother-of-pearl.
Salt water flows easily from my eyes -
like the sweet nectar filling my mouth.
"E facile per le farfalle di volare, sai."

I walk out into the grey-wet airfield,
screaming sounds of engines.
Walking forward, I close my eyes,
and the world is only light.

Now, I have come back to you,
with marzipan, and peacock feathers,
and stories of my adventures.

The light blazes, and the stars
send down their song.

The Universe is singing.