In the dusty fields
at the foot
of The Grand Tetons,
A small colt wanders
in the vast grey-green lather
of sage brush.
Blotted brown patches
across its belly
like
black mold on the ceiling
Of my memories.
One can never be sure where
the clouds end
and the mountains begin.
Those looming chalky blues,
Not unlike the sea.
It is only a matter of time
before the colt finds
what it is he was looking for.
It is only a matter of time
before blue meets blue meets
green
meets sea
meets sky.
One day these mountains will
No longer remember my name.

Sleep is a wonderful place.
Sleep takes us to escape on a dreams never ending journey.
Rejuvenates your energy, to a positive start.
Wake up and breath then go to sleep and grieve, cry, meditate, smile, blush or however your day made you feel.
Go to bed with the feeling life gave you, for as it makes you who you are the next day, even if it's negative, give yourself a fresh new start.
They say insomniacs never sleep, but they have to sleep at some point in time.
Sleep is a wonderful place, to be in your warm bed under the blankets.
Cotton,
Feathers,
Go green fabrics.
Sleep is wonderful, I recommend you try it.
Clouds and blue skies, counting sheep jump over the fences, moon and stars, happy feelings, oh darling, don't be afraid of the dark, I promise, it'll take you somewhere special. Dandelions, sunflowers or fields to valleys filled with bright green grass and light with love. Put on your pajamas, sleep naked.
Do what works for you, to make your dream work. To sleep wonderful.
It's your moment to think, reflect on your day. But what will happen the next we won know until we sleep wonderful.

Bright in the crisp, morning sky.
Shining over mountains so high.
Glistering in the arising dawn.
Shimmering a light upon.

New beginnings start this day
as the sun rises in a blessed way.
Glowing over the majestic hills.
Blossoming over the flowered fields.

Rose blossoms absorb the sunlight.
Needed for their breath-taking sight.
Birds chirping as dawn begins.
The sun now awakens.

The past
It's always on my mind
The grassy backyard I grew up in
This and that-memories of
Halloween, rabbits, fall, you.
All the things that pass in time.
I pick up this notion that
One may recall what happened to
Them when they were a young kid.
The balloons touching the ceiling of
My pre-school, the quiet time when
We supposedly slept but never did.
Like the color yellow, how I loved it,
The '89 earthquake, being shocked by it.
Songs in Kindergarten. Art, pictures, music.
Summer camp, exploring the wild, love, light,
And wind. I remember my brother
And I playing tag as the sun went
Down in the first house I moved in.
Running along the fields in the day,
Swimming, or memories of the
Tumbleweeds performance,
Being In the play.
All of the times I would always
Watch the sun on the swing as it rose
In the morning. I remember the vast
Wheat fields, a sense of calm quiet,
As if there were no place more peaceful.
Climbing my favorite pine tree in my back yard.
But one thing I remember more than ever
Was being on a field of my own.
The sky is filled with clouds always
Floating off like they
Were from an endless world of tranquility,
This warm sun, this was and-I forever remember
It to be-my one true home.

But that is another story...

I am a monument of love,
sitting with pen in hand.
I breathe deep inhaling fragrances, for inspiration.
I open ears, to hear birds sing enhancing thoughts.
I dance, moving with energies that carry me in breeze.

I am a monument of light,
writing to fill hearts
I focus, to ignite dreams of self inside song.
I invite all to come,
as love anchors inside my roots to share.
I bow with gratitude,
as the world evolves in blossoming fields of love.

Come, stand beside me
as I write to cradle hearts inside the moment.
A moment, where light leads the way,
as my monument stands tall
and I scribe to guide in grace.

StarBG © 2017