Horizontal lapses happenstance in the open.
A reflection present when motionless- inviting, welcoming.
Stopping, for seconds passing, to be stoic, calm breathing.
Haunting in the most pleasant ways, senses reckoning.
Daylight Beckoning.
Visiting, clear picture, subconscious revisiting, silence, closing in.
There’s an opening; rectangular door; wooden; lit with a warm glow.
Closed with a Smile. The rest not confiding.
No longer hiding.
This is a place like no other.
This is a safe corridor (We created it).
Closing one door,
To lead to another.
Closing one door,
To lead to another.
Ending here to begin,
As if there never was
"Before."

I strove with none, for none was worth my strife:
Nature I loved, and, next to Nature, Art:
I warm'd both hands before the fire of Life;
It sinks; and I am ready to depart.

Stars out in their billions
Above a living sea
Seagulls sleep on beaches
The wind blows to the lea
Old Mexico is haunting
A place of History
To these graceful sandy shores
You invited me
Your residence so gracious
Where I could be free.

I picture Starry Starry Night
Swirling colors, yellow, cream
Italian Cypress blowing
The deepest darkest green
Vincent must have such a Muse
What would he have seen?
If he came to Mexico
To stars like in a dream?

We exist neith different Skies
In these shells of flesh & bone
But we both seek the same prize
We are NOT alone
I would give all that I have
To soothe your road of stones
Yes, I'd give all that I have
I'd give all that I own
To give you all these billion stars

And a place you could call HOME.


Catherine Jarvis
11/19/2018

WRITING THE SILENCE

scratching at the silence
the pen's nib spreads the word
the empty page now overcrowded

the clink of an inkwell
the pen drinks its fill
word chases word

the pen drunk with words
blots the page
the poet curses

now the pen stops
to think. . .
before creating the next word

the candle fearlessly
standing up to the darkness
at last the last full stop

his head
rests upon his words
the candle loses its fight

in the morning
his words line up
for his inspection

his words
once only ink
dance in his mouth

he repeats them
to the walls...the furniture
anything that will listen

his thought
once invisible even to himself
now parades across the page

outside the world is
waking up
the dawn yawns

". . .these are my beloved words
in whom I am well pleased. . ."
his face smiles back from the mirror

Her easterly side
lies barren and marred
A persistent reminder
of deeply wounding scars

I feel her conviction
to never let herself grow
attesting to the impact
that a love lost bestows

To those who don’t know her
she appears vibrant and pristine
Hidden within layering branches
the pain of separation unseen

But I know her sorrow
we are connected through pain
The evergreen and this woman
wear the residue of love’s stain