Bent towards the light…

And so may a slow
wind work these words
of love around you,
an invisible cloak
to mind your life.

the words have softened

The words have softened
and mists have dispersed,
I finally believe that I am not cursed!

God’s love stretches further than my reach,
in the wilderness of heartbreak,
despair gets released…

And I’ve spilled brutal pain all over this page,
illegible scribbles,
my grief assuaged…
I can’t say I’ll never fall
into the abyss,
or even that unrelenting hurt won’t persist…

But somehow I know that life will go on,
I’m bent
towards the light
can you hear my song?

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“Start again”…I heard them say!

“The birds they sang
at the break of day.
Start again!!
I heard them say”
― Leonard Cohen
birds sang

I wanted
so badly
to give up…
let the tires down,
deflate the boat
and allow the little bit
of happiness
that remained in
my small heart
be kept forever
by a tutelage
an angelic host…

His memory tattooed like a scar…
All I wanted was
to be scrunched into
a tiny ball
to prevent myself
from feeling
this dreadful hollowness inside…
This relentless emptiness
that refused
to let me be… They don’t know, do they,
the terrible truth
about grief,
how it changes the heart
into
something awfully squishy,
vulnerable
defenseless
full of pain,
resembling
a bloody mass of bravery
and fear…

But then you sang to me from the window,
you beckoned me
to see the sunrise,
and I watched the trees bend down
and touch the ground,
their heavy branches
surrendering to the gale force of love,
in homage
to my brokenness…

And you wouldn’t give up,
because
when I walked away,
you “wolf-whistled”,
just to see me crack a smile…
Your dark exposure against the early morning light,
surprising me with your persistence,
reminding me that
I’m still
part of the mystery
of things…
deeply burrowed in belonging♡

…of becoming one
with sacred realms
where he still lives…

And the wind blew
my particles up,
rearranging the hemispheres of my brain,
that I might not miss his distinct personality
in present time…

And when I go back to sleep
just now
his fingers will touch
my engorged grief
and I’ll awake
again
in different aspects
of seeing
where
light-filled souls
acknowledge my pain,
and through the veil
that separated him once from me…
like a leaden,
unwanted curtain
shrouded with despair,
I tear my sorrow down
from that window…

shouting
his name aloud
in the half-light
my heart
so weary
in my chest,
the Angels
applaud my nobility.

I will
I promise you
I will find him
in every
aspect of my existence… You can be sure of that
just watch me,
as I stoop down and pick up the pieces of my unwanted life!

Gloriously Ruined…

“Where there is ruin, there is hope for a treasure.”
― Rumi

humans

I’ve met some humans,
crushed,
though not blind,
scarred and broken
yet unconditionally kind…

Brimming
with light
engulfed in grace
gathered by love
and worthy of embrace…

Uncluttered with pride,
humble
not vain
aglow with beauty,
acquainted with pain…

Freed from judgment
gloriously ruined
overflowing
with mercy
tenderly fluid…

©AllysoAlly2019

 

In the nuance of evening…

“We are all just walking each other home.”
― Ram Dass

the nuance of evening

In the nuance
of evening,
collect your thoughts,
in gentleness
and compassion,
stay the course…

In kindness to yourself
and each
living being,
no negativity
should darken
inspired ways of seeing…

And soak
up nature,
feel the earth
beneath your feet,
taste the sweet ambrosia
of merciful beats…

Sing out of tune
when nobody’s home,
let your mind
wander
and your body roam.

Forgive quickly
when offended
by some,
guard against hatred,
and in love
become…..
a transcended being
filled with light,
unafraid
of darkness
or the foreboding
of night…

Awaken in the mornings
knowing you survived,
perhaps undone
by suffering,
but fully alive…

©AllysoAlly2019

I wanted to be famous…

famous

I wanted to be famous
the talk
of the town,
hand out my autograph
like a queen with her crown…

Just to be noticed
by those
in the know,
a celebrity rock star,
with her very own show…

But as I’ve grown older,
I’m happy
to say,
I’m a star in my own right,
with an acclaimed cabaret…the birds
are my chorus
in the early morn,
with dazzling
sunshine..
I’m seriously adorned…

My fans waft past me in pale yellow hues,
dancing to the movement of a popular muse…

Young *hadedas
who write their own scores,
bellow out compliments,
I’ve heard their applause…

The grass
in the fields
worships my feet,
with gestures of praise…I am quite replete…

I’m the star performer, when the moon peeps out,
with floodlit glory,
she is quite devout…

and when stars
shimmer,
I’m part of their show,
made of fine stardust,
with a
magnificent
glow!

*The hadada or hadeda ibis (Bostrychia hagedash), is an ibis found in Sub-Saharan Africa. It is named for its loud three to four note calls uttered in flight especially in the mornings and evenings when they fly out or return to their roost trees.

©AllysoAlly2019

Bravely glowing

“And when we come to search for God, Let us first be robed in night, Put on the mind of morning To feel the rush of light Spread slowly inside The color and stillness Of a found world.”
― John O’Donohue, To Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Invocations and Blessings

particles of light

Besieged by memories and images of woe,
I let them move
and I watch them flow…

In moments of terror,
when life is opaque,
in death’s dark valley…my emotions quake.

Many moons of sorrow, of locust swarms,
untold suffering
harbingers warned,
the scattering of beings
into translucent dust
where radiance gathers and substance combusts.

Beyond foreboding
across gossamer veils
illuminated guides
on coherent trails,
where particles hover
and faith ignites
they bravely glow,
in relationship with light…

©AllysoAlly2018

 

 

Old Fashioned

mari's emporium

Old fashioned vibes down country lanes,
Mari’s Emporium,
she can explain.
Frocks for dances and weddings too,
the swinging sixties,
just wait in the queue!

Back to the old days
when fabric was cheap
one of a kind garments
always unique.
Tailored for your pleasure
in any style,
something casual
or perhaps versatile?
Gone are the days when we designed our own,
unstitch the hem
when we had outgrown.

I remember Gran pinning lace to her dress,
it was her secret
she
later confessed,
restyling clothes,
that had gone out of fashion
dressed to the nines,
she looked rather smashing…

©AllysoAlly2018