Soul Journey
The long journey's pathway exhausted and consumed the essence of the heart of a soul. Its flesh form hunched beneath a giant tree to rest in a familiar place of comfort and peace in solitude. The spirit of the soul draws life from the sacred familiar ground, where Mother Earth harbors her deeply grounded mysteries. Secrets held within her core, where the soul’s human structure evolves from the dust of her deepest roots in a timeless dimension… To follow destiny is a thinker’s choice...
Thursday, February 4, 2016
Saturday, June 14, 2014
Standing Barefoot on Rocky Ground ..... a long journey's reprise
Standing Barefoot on Rocky Ground .....
a long journey's reprise
Come walk with me a mile ...
Walk on without our burden’s weighty shoes ,
warily trudging over the long rocky
pathway of a lifetime in my soul ;
a final edifying voyage to freedom .
The winds of change are blowing briskly
as we walk charily over the long
rock-strewn passageway.
I shed these boots and skin, no longer fitting
my scared, blistered and callused soles .
As time slowly passes ,
this craggy terrain has evolved
from a two-way passageway,
into one-way jagged forage …
Standing barefooted and naked on rocky ground ,
dark sunken sleepless eyes scan
the rolling vista as the wind blows star dust
from the halo around the sun ,
blurring the delicate wispy cirrus clouds .
The sun’s radiance paints a frozen ice crystal azure
into a vivid aura of prisms’ glittering corona.
Kaleidoscope rainbows adorn the closest of solar stars .
There's something in the ethereal air
that leaves my soul unsettled ,
grasping for an allusive stability
as rumors of gold elude me ...
The pain and suffering has vanished
as if the body and soul have separated ,
numbness from the ache , severed nerves
sharp reflection on serrated rocky edges ,
deadened useless flesh cut to the bone
by misjudged obstacles encountered enduringly.
The barefooted spirit travels on ,
suffused in the solar spectrum’s dust ;
yearning , longing to saunter
above and beyond the bloated feathery pillows ;
cumulus clouds finally resting at peace .
Dipping these benumbed toes ,
heart’s weeping lesions
into a healing bath from the bowers of bliss ...
An unfinished life
of an open ended dream ,
reluctantly waking to take the last
surrendering steps beyond the threshold ...
A long and winding rocky journey’s destiny
draws near
The halo around the sallow moon
illuminates an understanding firmament ;
the gloaming celestial sphere’s
pending imminent soulful rain awaits
the metamorphosis at the brink of dawn .
A shower of heaven's teardrops shall mourn
the loss of form as the spirit of soul lives on ,
barefooted ,
naked and free
like the dust in the wind
absorbed eternally...
Harlon Rivers
note: memories of the future...
Hope is like Faith,
believing in something you can't see,
but knowing in your heart it’s real.
We all have faith in something...
"Never deprive someone of hope ~
it may be all they have"....Anonymous
June 2014
...let this humble remembrance of journey's writ
be a lasting memory of this simple being ...
Saturday, February 22, 2014
Homage to a Brimful Poet
Homage to a Brimful Poet
A message heart delivered by a musing troubadour
left footprints upon
a well weathered rivers’ rocky shoal
the lazy days of the summer’s
simmering ethereal breezes
lazily waft astir
Unknown distance ‘tween yonder skies azure;
a well weathered rivers’ rocky shoal
lazily waft astir
thoughts of nebulous distances
fearlessly ignored
Connectedness sown and deference’s
soar from high above,
yet beyond vast breadth
afar the great divide
His brimful heart in hand fulfills passersby thirst
needing love here, hearts on sleeves sincere,
wellspring sensibilities handed out willingly here
voids filled by word of quill …
right now is the known needed time
Glasses half empty suffused to their half full brims;
do unto others you will reap just what ye sow
A poet beyond the bounds of his own demure,
bearing immense understanding
The quintessential essence of family love
drips from heart like havens rain,
testifies the heart's purpose for being
A poet’s voice speaks in soul’s timeless tongues
unknown breaths
from another understanding realm
too deep for words;
yet the word sayer struggles to see his forest ‘s poetic beauty for to see beyond the pendant beauty
within the magnificent grandeur
his own gifted heart’s nurtured trees.
Harlon Rivers . . .©August 21st, 2013
fearlessly ignored
soar from high above,
afar the great divide
from another understanding realm
You never know how many rings a tree's trunk
while it is still standing rooted deeply in the bedrock of mother earth...
long may ye stand tall
as thy poetic tree's
ever reaching limbs
touch heavens azure ...
Respectfully sincerely,
Harlon Rivers
Monday, February 17, 2014
Mending Unraveled Threads
... a poem about the times when we struggle to see things clearly ... Like the moments when it can feel like the mind can become a twisted and tangled mess ...Everybody has turbulent Monday's now and then ... Just some more often than others ...
Mending Unraveled Threads
From
time to time the thoughts get so twisted
Lost
in vague and muddled silent reverie
If
only the silenced words could be spoken clearly
An
untangled and redrawn picture
Seen
in a new light’s shining glow
The
silk threads spun get knotted and tousled
Where
the web is blindly woven out of sight
Interlaced
within the shadow’s darkness
Ensnarled
loose skeins get harder to unravel
When
the tangled mess is known by heart
When
the trailing vines of the vineyard get twisted
Entwined
in the forgotten moments of a time passed
The
grapes of wrath craft a bitter sweet vintage
Gone
astray within the jumbled maze unfurling
The
crawling vines reaching for the radiant sunlight
A
journey’s tapestry montage becomes unraveled
Tugging
too hard at the past’s hanging strand
Unraveling
and exposing every last stitch of thread
As
the collage of snippets from the past
Comes
unglued
Can
you imagine looking up at the enlightening moment
As
the mosaic of glistening stars
Assembled
the enchanting sky ?
For
that instant the universe seemed like crystal clear perfection
Far
beyond the mystic illumination of the midnight sun
Do
you remember you once held me tight as I trembled ?
You
can’t see where you’re going in the pouring rain
You
knew for an instant I was lost deep within my being
Until
hope parted the clouds
Letting
love’s light shine right on through ...
© 2013 Harlon Rivers … All Rights Reserved
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
... in the hands of the maker
These feet trodden , benumbed ,
enslaved by the weight of the load
loamy earth no longer soft , supple ,
forgiving of cold tender feet
the pang of crystalline frost heaves
beneath winter moss
ache as if walking barefoot
on frigid rocky ground
each step taken in effort to draw nearer ,
apportion the distance between a place once so closely embraced,
and yet ,
now the distance appears so wide
the gravity of the metaphysical makes
me weak in the knees
I drop down and kiss the wintry ground
knowing all my cares
lie frozen far below ...
the scent of burning sage
and
sweetgrass permeates the chill ,
smoke rising like mist
into the mystic
a healing smudge carefully brushed with reverence ,
an abounding LOVE cleansing in this earth ,
the atmosphere stirs ,
I feel the muted words' silence emanating in the air
... knowing I’m not a stranger
in the hands of the maker
© Harlon Rivers ...December 9th, 2013
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
Kayak...the karma of rivers' flow
Kayak...the karma of rivers flow
wild waters call out their names
an ancient spirit within souls beckons
subtle utterance only heard
by the muse of adventure within
scholars of the poetic minutiae
wild water’s flow
cadence imbibes the river
the artisan glides
inertia of motion
dances with water
aplomb reader
of untamed water’s nuances
yin and yang
natural cause and effect
rollicks with the intricacies of flow
understanding beneath the turbulent surface
spontaneity with the gifts of naturalness
riding gravity's pull
go with the flow mantra
as water seeks its own level
springs from mountain high peaks
cascades, plummets, falls
the long journey back home
all at sea
Harlon Rivers
October 13, 2013
Note: big believer in do unto mantra, so this poem was written for and mused by a friend... and our unlikely moment with this simple photograph ... maybe you will help me read the water better...Stands Proud with Heart on Sleeve
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)