Saturday, January 31, 2009

This is my first foray into the world of blogs, so please bear with me while I try out my internet legs.

I have written a few poems, mostly for myself, a few geared to others, which for obvious reasons I will not share here. The ones that I share were indeed written for myself. I am a seeker, a searcher. For what do I search? For meaning in my life and the world in general. Some of my poetry has been ripped out of the pain in my heart/soul. For me it helps to 'verbalize' on paper at least, problems and, sometimes out of this comes peace of mind or reconciliation with a situation as it is.
Some has been written during spiritual searches. Again I often found committing to paper my thoughts helpful and, often revealing of what I really believed.
All of my life so far has been trying to find my purpose and reason for being on this planet. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that my reason is simply to be; to remain open to life's opportunities and soak up all that life has to offer!


NIGHT LIFE
Pines are aglow
In the moonlight.
Ocean waves appear
In darkness,then light.
A rustle in blackness
Means life is still there.
A hoot from a sentinel owl
Assures me all's well.
My sleepy head drops
To its welcoming pillow.
My mind drifts back to dreams
Afloat on wind stirring pines,
And waves washing sand.
Knowing life is still there.
The song of a dream owl
Assures me all's well.
by sfstevens




NIGHT LIFE
I am awakened in the deepest depths of the night. What woke me, I wonder. I lie perfectly still and listen. The darkness feels friendly and warm, like gentle arms are protecting me. Worries are banished into the day yet to be.
The wind soughs gently through the trees outside my windows. Ocean waves rise and fall through the moonlight, changing from black to flashing silver.
Gentle rustling of small animals, birds murmuring in their sleep sounds so right. I drift back in my mind to my life as a child on a prairie farm. I am snuggled securely under the blankets on the screened in porch of our farmhouse. It is summer and the night is black. I can hear the occasional owl proclaiming what sounds like, ‘all’s well, go back to sleep now.’ In a tree nearby I can hear the scratching sound of a porcupine laboriously climbing up to safety. My dog snorts gently in his sleep - further reassurance that all is well. In the distance I can hear the barely discernable sound of a lonely, yet somehow comforting, train whistle. Those were happy times I think to myself. In those moments fear was a stranger. God was very near.
I come back to the present, reassured that all is indeed well. Morpheus arises to lead me back to sleep. My head drops without protest, onto my welcoming pillow. My thoughts drift effortlessly back toward my dreams. They are afloat like leaves, at the whim of the breezes among the unsubstantial shadows of my mind. In my imagination I once again hear the wind through the pines and the waves gently washing and arranging the sands of the beach. I am secure in my snug nest. A dream owl sings of dreams to come, I am again assured that all is well in my nighttime world.
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