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Sleep came to me 4 times this morn’,
even though torture awakened me
after a short time, betwixt.
A blessing compared to days before.
Severely psychically attacked
while my soul stood strong.
There but for Thee’s grace go I.

My father a tank, a beat down for hours,
I 1 3/4, wasn't speaking yet, wouldn't
'til 3, he wouldn't stop knocking me out,
each time I'd awake, immediately stand,
never cry a tear, I knew better
and something's very wrong with him.
I couldn't hate then and would never.

Non-humancentricity, how to be, all life
are needed threads in life’s fabric,
that cannot be allowed to be torn
asunder, walking within nature’s balance,
giving back to it’s abundance,
is not only sage advise,
it’s required for earthly life.
Many have grown up in severe military households, so I'm sure you can appreciate.  Thanx for all you do, have a great eve'   :)   reality
While feeling sacred on this All Hallow's Day,
I also feel pangs of the hungry, so wrought by
The profane, for the food wasted by us could feed
All the world's.... Yet, betwixt,
In the mundane it's only hurled.

Allowing our thoughts on our forbearers,
And a drink returned to the earth for them, as they,
The dearly departed, are us as well, we discern,
The depth of one's sorrow is the well's fathom
Of meanings and moments shared with them.

Thus, manners in which doings, not doings are done
Or aren't, brings life, light to them, or it doesn't.  
For grace, just a word, can't be sought, it seeks you.  
As words, while paths of study, can't lead to oneself,
For, intellect can not lead, as life does not follow.
And another twig of the holiday poetree for this Thanx/Mourning Day   :)

Another Thanx/Mourning Day


I am thankful for,
The wonder of our
Morning star’s rise,
And it’s setting
Within our eyes,
On this Beauty Way
We build each day
With great surprise.

Native’s compassion taught
Pilgrims at Plymouth
How to live within, give to,
Nature’s abundance.
That providence sowed
Reaped graces’ harvest,
Fraternity, bearing
Fruits to this day.

We gave Native America genocide, Earthocide.
Chief Seattle said, “no one can own the land”.
Bowing to Above and Below, for gifts bestowed,
Giving, may we, again, walk that way.
While giving thanx
This full Moon’s day,
There, but for the grace
Of God, Great Spirit, go I.

Copy, share as you will. Thanx for all you do    :)    reality
Is where, the hearth is,

one can be, one's heart is free,

one's head lays and dreams.
Senryu.  In space of reflection on this Thanx/Mourning Day   :)   reality
San frontieres, a twig of poetree,

topological, roots and wings,

once more to the breach,

dancing betwixt ears, ungestured, bays,



I'd be as a mayfly, only alive a day,

rather than as long as an eagle flies, not whying.

Fathoming delves ley lines realizing increasing

wingspan, height of flight, intensity of sunlight.
Gotta have hearth.  Standing is my life, and I never died   :)   reality
all the wind i see in colors
little black and blue butterflies convening, willow trees sprawled out above the brook casting shadows
underneath them
i undress my mind
to the rhythms of the earth
and dancing off my skin goes
all the light/the light/the light
that skips your eyes
Below, above, betwixt, otherworldly,

Harsh, birth of a star green dances supreme,  

Serene, river's blues surround mountains hues,

Surreal, nature's abundance and starkness,

Ethereal, vie vrai, ephemeral and forever.
Based on seeing great photo by Sarah Simpsons   :)   Thanx to her:



https://jamesmnordlund.wordpress.com/2019/06/02/kafjord-norway/#comment-1693

:)   reality
sayali Jun 2018
Your petals
won't be
curled in
for long,
they'll open,
you'll bloom.

-Sayali Parkar
sayali Jun 2018
As long as
The wind
Blows,
     The rain
      Wets the
      Parched soil,
The blades
Of grass,
Break the
Ground,
      The roses
      Emanate
      The aromatic
      Aura,
Bees hover
Over the
Flowers,
       You love me
       By all your
       Heart,
I'll have
Stories to
Tell.

// As long as

-Sayali Parkar
poetryofdhiman Feb 2018
the night falls
behind the curtain of the black sky
with a silver coloured bulb called moon
floating weightlessly in the background,
together with the billions of stars
shimmering like the glow-worms.

the clouds fly here and there
with the joy of becoming grey again
leaving behind the dry memories
of summer and sunny days
hoping to become raindrops again
and fall on the soft leaves of earth.

©Dhiman
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