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Away from the white Stork feathers
Often seemed to be gentle breeze
On Kans grasses
Superficial white clouds
Small dinghies on the river
To navigate the life

Far away on the bridge
The Silent movement of the Brahminy kite
Southern breeze blew
Tilting the tall grasses toward the North
Leak of the light fell into the Kans,
Into the Soft green grasses

Sunlit mingled with light fog
Seek heavenly feeling
Without the knowledge
The lips Stir of

Walking beside the river
Barefooted
In the air Kestrel's mystic music
The river running with full of chime

What are the forms of you!
Thee bind me with deception!
What a Strange tune!
What those thirsty words!

So that I draw your image
Moving away from the shadows
Soft light blended with the estuary
Away,
Little by little,
To see your face
Like the rig of Ship

Behind the path
A magical dream
Seems like a White Shirt  
That I had left in the Kans grasses
Another old tomcat is sinking
all over him is the scar of weather
and I know it’s about time
death brings him a breather.

He was never my pet
but mingled with them
to live on their crumbs’ diet
and be loved
without a name.
  May 2015 Jason Cole
Dawn King
walk with me
turn off your sorrow
let your bones roll away
don’t let your residue go astray
you will see them
when you get there
to the place
you left in despair
it’s dark and dusty
poorly lit
a wide case of stairs are there
do you remember it
a man in a camel colored linen suit awaits
he hands you a hand crafted wooden box
you open the box
it is velvet lined
it is full of needles
among the needles is a folded letter
you wrote it the day you left
you left in despair
it contains your answers but you already know
you ascend the burgundy stairs
to the place above
you stand suspended in nothingness
stillness
there is a corner of a window pane
through it the skies are blue
they call to you
for if and when
you ever decide
you’re ready for
the other side
  May 2015 Jason Cole
Marshal Gebbie
Birth is  a beginning
and death a destination
And life is a journey:
from childhood to maturity
and youth to age;
from innocence to awareness
and ignorance to knowing;
from foolishness to discretion and then, perhaps to wisdom;
from weakness to strength
or strength to weakness -
and often back again.
From health to sickness and back we pray to health again;
from loneliness to love,
from joy to gratitude, from pain to compassion,
and grief to understanding -
from fear to faith until,
looking backward or ahead,
we see that victory lies
not at some high place along the way,
but in having made the journey, a sacred pilgrimage.
Birth is a beginning and death a destination.
But life is a journey,
from birth to death......to life everlasting.!

Sammy
A beautiful passage written by a dear friend, Sammy, for Grandpa Verne, a wonderful man, who recently passed away. Written with love and caring for my darling wife Janet who was utterly shattered by the loss of her father.
M.
.....For you were once my love, back then
But then was then and now is now,
Life has flowed beneath this bridge
Paved our way and showed us how.
Through ups and downs, we counted cost
Depicting how we played our cards,
This fortitude and moral strength
A measure of.… how one regards,
My friend who shined as crystal gem
When hardship intervened, by chance
In offering her helping hand
In order to resume the dance.
And though the passing crowd moved on
and paused, perhaps to glance and stare,
She bent and warmly took my hand
And murmured, friend, I care, I care.

M.
  May 2015 Jason Cole
SøułSurvivør
~~~

My memory of grandpa
Was that his hands were red
Showing me some pictures
A kid's book before bed.

The bones were raw and gnarled
The sinews looked all sore
The skin was thickly callused
Spotted, lined and scored.

They showed wear and tear
They echoed his toil
Grandpa was a farmer
A tiller of the soil.

Grandpa couldn't read
But we could laugh and look
His hands delicately turning
The pages of a book.


SoulSurvivor
(C) 5/12/2015
This is one of my favorite memories.

~~~
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