to The Brothers, and Sisters, in Arms . . .
as the Caissons, go rolling along, Ever still . . .
.
.
.
just as
the Morning
gives up Her Promise
to the Day, go forth, become,
and be One with God’s bless’d Intent,
be swift, be sure, be smart, be strong, yes
be the Purpose for which all your Courage is lent,
from your eyes, your heart, your soul’s reason why,
pours your Grace, as from Heaven, sent,
and in the absence of fear, join
with All Things Dear,
and take
hold of what your
dreams, have Always meant . . .
.
.
.
and to an Angel, named Havana, who ’caused’ these words into being . . .
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
i
of All the Days, and All the Ways, We have stood in each Other’s sight, as Friends,
those Days, were surely the Best Days, as My Heart so warmly contends,
and when these Memories speak of Fondness, and of a Woman’s
Essence, that only Angels could ever deserve to boast, it is
Your Courage, as a Quality, that I so admire the most . . .
for S.
2012
.
.
.
( A Monarch, of peerless Grace )
i
rising, up through The Mists of unCertainty,
breaking Free, of the Long Dark Kiss of Night,
unfurling a glorious wing’d Tapestry of The Colors
of Humanity . . . Each Hue and Cry, of Days, gone by,
gently streaming, in the brilliant Abundance, of Her Wake . . .
every Sight, and every Sound, quietly gathers in A Symphony
of Moments yet to be, while a Host of Stars slowly come to rest,
to witness, and to wonder, of The Courage, about to lay ItSelf
down upon The Land, and Yes, upon The Follies, of Man . . .
from Book III, The Diamond ( Third Beginning ) The Ninth DoveTale – The Shield of Courage
Anam Cara
( Tatia’s Dream )
i
and Now, a tumultuous Year is nigh coming to a close,
one that held many Chances and CircumStances,
some Within, some Without, and some,
so very far Beyond, Our Control . . .
We are left to reassemble or rebuild Each of
the Pieces of Our Lives that best mirror The Pattern,
or The Purpose, of The Plan, and Our Place, within It All . . .
some of Us face Tasks or Trials that challenge, while Others,
face the same Troubles, with nary a Blink of an Eye . . . and still,
there are Those that never even bother to notice The Light of Day . . .
through it All, there are Those, that meet what is dealt to Them
with extraordinary Courage, unextinguishable Hope, while
teaching All of Us, exactly what Faith, is All about . . .
They, lead Us, by Example . . .
They, honor Us, with Kindness . . .
They, shelter Us, with Foregiveness . . .
They, Always reveal to Us, The Very Meaning of Life, and how to live It, and how to cherish Every
Moment of Every Day, with a Spirit borne of knowing of just how precious, Every Moment, can be . . .
from Book I, The Ring ( First Light) The Twelfth DoveTale – The Passion of Innocence
written to, and for, some very dear Friends, on December 24th, 2002
( She Soars )
smiling,
She watches The FireFlies
chasing Away The Edge of Night,
It’s Long Dark Kiss nEver to pierce
or plague The Very Hearts of Men,
and what Women once Were,
They will Be, Again . . .
and Far, Far
below
Her
Still,
standing
for Eternity,
is Her Iron Horse,
SteadFast, and Resolute,
with His Eyes Ever on The Prize,
and His Heart, Ever bound by a Thread
so Fine, and Silver, to The Wing’d Wonder
now dancing with The Wind, high above Him,
and to Whom, He gazes so fondly, and returns
The Smile She has flown an entire Sky to find,
and He whispers to Her, with a Voice of
singular Courage and Grace,
whereEver U may go, and whatEver U may do,
The Meaning of My Life, is for Always, loving U,
yet, no Matter how Far, from Me, U care to roam,
know that My Heart will be waiting, for as Long as
My Heart, is Your Home . . .
from Book III, The Diamond ( Third Beginning ) The Eleventh DoveTale – The Whisper of Fullfilment
( RiverWalk )
She looks, out across The Millennia, Out across an endless Path of Winter, in The Hope of finding One Day’s Respite from Sorrow, worn, as She wears Her Faith, with The Courage of Titans . . .
And deep within Her Heart, lies Patience, hiding from The Folly of Men . . . for They would steal from Her, All They can never understand, and They would bury Her, under All They can never know . . .
And She will carry Her Burden through The Ages, as She, as Always, has done, without The Comfort of Reason, without The Shelter of Compassion . . . for in This, She stands Alone, listening, to The Ring of Truth, telling Her of All that Might Have Been . . .
And slowly, She turns toward Yesterday, and smiles, as Her Children of The Clouds gather before Her, to bathe within Her Kindness . . . Her Eyes catch a glimpse of Love, Again, as She lays upon Her Twilight Path, from Her Basket of Knowledge, The Tears that became Stars, long Ago . . .
And in The Time of A Wink and A Promise, She forgives All that came Before, as She walks beside Remember, there along The River of Souls . . . and in The Distance, drifting toward Her, stands Tomorrow, bound to The Deck of a Ship, called EverMore . . .
* * *
and There, into The Arms of Grace, go I . . .
from Book III, The Diamond ( Third Beginning ) The Fourth DoveTale – The Secret of Prisms
( of Wings, and Prayers )
a delicate, pale-blue Sparrow, without even a Name or a Number, and fresh from The Shores of a pale-blue Gem in a dark velvet Sky, called Avalon, stares with unblinking Eyes upon the vast, and venomous Maw of Oblivion, waiting, well past The Reach, and just beyond The Edge, of Her fading, and now forgotten, unCertainty . . .
She is poised, not by dare nor design, yet knowing, beyond a Shadow of Doubt, that All that has come to Pass, ended, Here, and, as sure as the very next Breath She will take during this Journey, will begin the First Moments, of All that will come to Be . . .
and so Far, She has flown, so Far, from The Fields and The Forests, of SomeTime When, carrying with Her, The Dreams, The Desires, and The Music of Men . . .
and while this Night begins to pale from The Light of The One, and The Moon slowly turns, once More, to face The Advent of The Sun, whose Smile, heralds Her Return, to The Land, of Love, Again . . .
and, with a final Thrust, born from The Strength of Her Conviction and Courage, She pushes off from Her Place upon The Hopes of Humanity, with Wings outstretched to embrace the eternal Whispers of God, which will guide Her, unerringly, into the wide and waiting Arms of FullFillMeant, and knowing, so well, as She soars at Last into The Absence of Her Fear, that behind Her, lifting high into The Realm of Their Significance, and, with The Might of The Majesty of Titans, come Tens, of Thousands, More . . .
( of Wings, and Prayers )
i
A delicate, pale-blue Sparrow, without even a Name or a Number, and fresh from The Shores
of a pale-blue Gem in a dark velvet Sky, called Avalon, stares with unblinking Eyes
upon the vast, and venomous Maw of Oblivion, waiting, well past The Reach,
and just beyond The Edge, of Her fading, and now forgotten, unCertainty . . .
She is poised, not by dare nor design, yet knowing, beyond a Shadow of Doubt,
that All that has come to Pass, ended Here, and as sure as the very next Breath She
will take during this Journey, will begin the very First Moments, of All that will come to Be . . .
and so Far, She has flown, so Far from The Fields and The Forests, of SomeTime When,
carrying with Her, The Dreams, The Desires, and The Music of Men, and while this Night
begins to pale from The Light of The One, and The Moon slowly turns once More, to face
The Advent of The Sun, whose Smile, heralds Her Return to The Land of Love, Again . . .
and, with a final Thrust, born from The Strength of Her Conviction and Courage,
She pushes off from Her Place upon The Hopes of Humanity, with Wings
outstretched to embrace the eternal Whispers of God, which will
guide Her, unerringly, into these waiting Arms of
FullFillMeant, and knowing, so well,
as She soars at Last, into The Absence of Her Fear,
that behind Her, lifting high into The Realm of Their Significance,
and, with The Might of The Majesty of Titans, come Tens, of Thousands, More . . .
from The Voyage of Kings – A StoryTeller’s Dream, Dream III
written in Honor of the Mother of My Son, who passed from this Life, in June of 2011
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