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Ma Cherie Apr 2017
I hear the lovely kiss of Spring,
it comes to me a song he sing,
upon the lovely sacred wing,
the bird above amazes eye,
as I listen to his battle cry,
I raise a hand,
then softly sigh,
please do stay
not bid goodbye,

A screeching sound to take his ****,
a bird as this - astounding skill,
they try to fight but they lose the will,
morphing in an alien shape,
no mouse nor snake to yet escape,

It comes here now my bird of prey,
the hawks again they fly today,
magnificent- to take a breath,
swooping in to claim a death,

A single hawk now sits in view,
though sometimes twelve or maybe two,
this my bird
-a sign to see,
of what now comes-
an what will be,
a omen of my destiny,

This,
a messenger from a god,
who's flight leave only feeling awed,
a spirit of my Father here,
to call again an draw me near,
I listen close with an open ear,

I knew this place was for me sure,
it is the place I find the cure,
leaving there of where we were,
the place to rest my restless feet,
and finally give my heart a seat,
life it hid- with much deceit,

A garden full and nightly meals,
my bird of prey- his quarry squeals,
I listen for the holy squawk,
I listen for my red tail hawk,
I watch him fly but I only gawk,

He came last year- enlightening
in visions sometimes frightening,
my sky of many, sky of one,
all together beneath the sun,

A guardian who came before,
who now protects my new front door,
a harbinger of good I know,
I'm sure my seeds this time to grow,
an we not die- in this I know,

His Spirit lives here in the spring,
on every bird on every wing,
in my every caution
and in every other thing,
he's every sound and every sight,
and every bird on every flight,
he's every morn' and every night,

He's everything I eat and cook,
in every word in every book,
in every face in every look,
he is my grandson's bouncing ball,
he is the leaves that died in fall,
he is my son- who grew so tall,

Returned to me in verdant love,
my greenest mount from up above,
painted here angelic hands,
a carpenter who had his plans,

To make this place-
God's country -
and so too then is mine,
my soul an spirit
-forever -
right here- they intertwine,
an I am ever grateful
for an understanding mind,

An so I do my sacred part -
to teach the children well,
I listen close to sacred hearts
in sadness I do not dwell,
in every fear to leave behind ,
so in his love- to you I tell,

We are more than just our flesh,
an every day is new an fresh,
listen to the birds of Spring,
tiny one or on a giant wing,
hear the song to listen
-sing

Knowing when the sun it sets,
to leave behind the past regret,
smiling souls will have no fret,
an face what we see as the dark,
to find a footlight in a tiny spark,

And even if my soul stayed here,
I'd live my life this way,
even if it ends right now,
If always I must
always, stay,

To live a life that's dignified,
but not of one consumed by pride,
a life that's been so worth the ride,
well I can say I really live,
I give in all I have to give,
I carry not no weight with me,
I will let it rest -I will just let it be,

But this is not to say
at times -
my heart does not feel sad,
for sorrow teaches to appreciate
the times when you feel glad,
an anger hurts only you I think,
so no use in being mad,
although I think we must at times,
if only just a tad,

Regardless of a promise made,
in a text or ancient writings,
I will take the message now
of my bird that I am sighting,

This is chance a time of change,
take a hold an grasp,
wear it in a locket near,
an tightly close the clasp,

Find a dream up in the sky
and draw it to your heart
this is the time in Spring it's true
to make a brand new start,

Go now-
an find your new life
beneath the springtime sun.

Ma Cherie © 2017
I saw an orb with my own two eyes in the middle of the day in my bathroom and I don't even know how I feel about that sort of thing but I caught it with my camera. Any thoughts? This Hawk the pictures are mind blowing see my page and picture yes he is back ; ) For my Father
love you all ❤❤❤
Gabriel burnS Dec 2016
too long your lips have stared
into the body of my thoughts,
studying the patterns
and the features,
deciphering the blueprints,
my irrational being

...those petals,
their textures burning in the color,
popping out like embers, fed
every regulated breath

you are compelled
to lick away the dryness,
wipe the prints and traces,
put out the flames covertly...
but make it look casual:
you cannot be caught spying;
or the government of words
denies everything,
severing the strings,
abandoning its secret desire
behind enemy lines,
to be captured, questioned,
and tortured
by your very own
collaborationist conscience
Sumit Ganguly Jan 2017
Capricorn clings to me as per Eastern astrology  
Western system puts Libra on different ideology
Feng Shui offers a new interpretation,
but I exist from the day of conception.

28th Jan. 2017
Apollo Hayden Jan 2017
There are times I fall so deep in dreams, I have to break my own heart just to open my eyes.
Upon return, the world feels so different to me, as if someone has sped up time.
As I journey through the mazzaroth, I learn more about the signs, all while learning how to balance mine at the same time.
Late night drives
always help me think
the farther away from home I get
the further I see in to my future
dazzling lights
blur on the speckled windscreen
then starburst through the dust
I can never seem to get off my specs

Don't wanna turn around
not feeling the need to go back
the closer I get to home
the more memories that come back
of a life I've lived, of one
I could never get on track
the road is wet I should slow down

The steering wheel my punching bag
my microphone, my audience
a place to rest my head when I'm sad
empty seats are empty
just like empty me without the envy
and
I can't see the street signs
'*** I don't care to
.
.
Drive safe
Apollo Hayden Nov 2016
Must've been a glitch in the matrix
Cuz all of these faces are all starting to look the same to me.
Caught up in their fears of tomorrow, lowering their vibrations,
How will you ever make it to 5D?
It'll take more than a board to surf these waves,
more than fog lights to clear all this haze,
from the heart and the head is where it all vibrates so become aware of what's in front of you to see what your subconscious mind is trying to say.
From head we project what we see, just like a movie screen, we are the directors unaware of the rolls we play; thoughts creating our realities everyday.
Hearing echoes from Obama saying we need to believe in change; listening to Micheal as I stare at the man in the mirror, remembering where it starts first.
It can't be done if it ain't from the heart first,
the war can't be won if you don't put God first because there's a shift on the horizon.
As I write these lines time is speeding up while some still on the dark side of their mind hiding from self.
We can build heaven here on earth, or we can choose to remain in a hell.
The trumpets are blowing, in this age of knowing
Jacob's finally breaking out of his sleeping spell.
Read the signs and know that it is high time to rise up and rebel.
George Krokos Sep 2016
The fragrant flowers in the garden
do speak to me of nature’s pardon
that she has again granted us all
tho it seems we're letting her fall.

The many colours of the rainbow
are surely a sign to me somehow
that whatever we may each do right
will help us all to walk in the light.

When the weather comes in due season
and the elements play within our reason
if there has been nothing done to regret
or anything that we would rather forget.

If we experience peace on a daily basis
and speak kind words to all other faces
with some wisdom and a pleasant smile
that we're not taken to show them guile.
  
In ways we help each other in trouble
and alleviate pain whenever we're able
just by giving someone a helping hand
especially those finding it hard to stand.

When we see the good in each other
and treat everyone else like a brother
not withholding any right exemption
we are showing signs of redemption.

-----------------------------
Written in 2016
Open,
Commanding eyes, open,
Mind,
Read the thoughts,
Scribbled onto the fabric,
Words that are set in stone,
Matter that is untouchable,
Ghostly syllables that have no means,
Interconnected by differential seam,
Like a sweater hugging the truth,
A fluffly mask than enslaves an essence,
Just to supply a relieving sigh,
Just to claim a means to get by,
Just to instill a feeling of a high.
Maybe we want to be strong,
But I'm sure we have a hard time finding out when it is already wrong.
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