Friday, April 17, 2015

Hopes, Dreams and Aspirations



What are your aspirations, your dreams, your wants and your desires?
With what, do you fill your empty places,
your seemingly dormant spaces?
With what liquid do you quench, your thirst?
feed your hungry soul?

my darling, please REMEMBER.....
that you were not made solely
to spend your hours,
your years in the pursuit...
of your buying power,
intellectual prowess,
as a searcher and seeker....
of approval, and of LOVE,
from the empty coffers....
of things that WILL NOT
GIVE!

when.....

you are made for peace,
you are made for joy
your heart cries to DANCE
in wild celebration,
because IT KNOWS
that at every moment you are a living,
breathing,
poem,
written by an author,
whose scripts are alive...
with beauty

You, sweet, innocent person,
are made in the image of children,
with SIMPLICITY at your core....
your tears kissed,
your nightmares comforted.
by a "parent"
who does not EVER abandon you

YOU, my darling, are sung the sweetest of  lullabies,
if you could but hear them......
the notes of which
are woven throughout your moments
by the musician whose unmatched expertise....
whose sole magnificent performance....
is solely meant and played for YOU

You, my love, are a painting
whose colors are so vibrant,
so alive...
that all of creation
breathes in your beauty,  in wonder....
by an artist whose palette
is filled with every imaginable color,
brilliant sunsets, verdant forests, silver moonlight
are only part of the repertoire,
set upon the canvas,
that is you,
if only you could see it

Your capacity for joy, darling...
is more abundant than the stars,
which light the sky....
or the drops which fill the sea....
if you could but FEEL it...

Your LIFE is more precious,
your every action...
(which you often consider
to be the most mundane......)
are cherished,
remembered,
encouraged,
and yes, LOVED
without reservation,
or restraint,
by a virtuoso....
of LOVERS,
who knows you more intimately,
than you know yourself
If you only FELT the touch of  it.......

And if you knew this,
your search would end, thus...
as if it never began......









Thursday, March 26, 2015

Holy Moments

 
HOLY MOMENTS
written by Carolyn Jackson, photo unknown
 
And you would look for me,
in the flowering of the lily,
in the ancient tales and writings,
of the saints
and of the sinners 
 
And you would look for me
in the sweeping vistas,
the howling wind and deep cold
of the highest mountains
 
You may catch a glimpse of me
in the sparkling diamonds
laid out upon the sea
or the lazy undulations
of the golden grained
gently
windswept fields
 
Or you may find me
for a moment
in a sleeping child's sigh
or a lover's tear
or a soldiers death cry
 
You may see me in
the subtle and in the obvious
the church,
the synagogue
the long winded prayer,
the chant
the choir
the buyer
the seller
the traitor
and the liar
 
It is you who would judge
which
are the holy moments
by your own idea
of what is right
and what is
wrong
 
And it is you who would lay the blame
of all of that judgment
at the feet
of your GOD
 
This is the dream,
which you have created,
a play which you have directed,
it is you who have expected,
such a wonderful and warped objective,
And you are the actor,
the writer,
the creator,
of ....
it all,
Beautiful and Horrendous
 
and all the while
the moments
yes, those holy moments
that you  choose to mourn,
or that you choose to love,
do,,,,
pass you by....
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Oh Lover of my Heart

 
 
Isn't it wonderful to find someone
in love with your heart?

someone who knows,
the buttons,
the clasps,
and unties...
the ribbons of the ungainly garments,
beneath which...
your innocence...
lies

someone
who listens....
not to what is said,
but to what is felt...
in the silence between the uttered  confusion of words
 
someone
who strokes your soul....
as if it is the softest,
silkiest substance,
ever touched
 
someone who
appreciates the sight...
the sound....
of the part of you
which lies naked...
beneath the armor of
your skin,
and
your bones,
 
someone who recognizes...
that light
shining....
through, (sometimes)
the glimmering diamonds of your shyly hidden tears
 
someone who can hear,
the sound
of those magical bubbles of  mirth....
beneath the seriousness
of your bravely constructed  façade
 
And when they join 
you there,
in THAT most sacred of cathedrals,
which holds,
both...
your soul,
and theirs.....
 
What union of Divinity....
can there be!
 
Poem by Carolyn Jackson photo by Dorey Myler

The Celebration of Solitude


In Celebration of Solitude





And she chose to be alone, ....
preferring the company
of solitude,,
unfettered by any other,

lovers, friends,
seemed too numerous a distraction,

for this day....

and these companions
rose up from within herself.
to celebrate !

COURAGE led the way...
into ALONE,
JOY with gay footsteps, danced along a path of utter FREEDOM,
SERENITY filled the air,
 the scent of PEACE,,
AND the nectar of SILENT APPRECIATION filled her on that day...
when others, came to call,
she did not answer, she simply turned away !

for
 with every breath
the warmth of LOVE
enveloped her

CLARITY opened her eyes,
….wide, and wider still
to every possibility of  BEAUTY

KNOWLEDGE told her of her choices, who she was, and why....

AND she sighed....
with the perfection,
of FULFILLMENT
on the day,
she chose to be
ALONE
 
poem and watercolor by Carolyn Jackson


Wednesday, November 5, 2014

White Queen to Black Knight



Players in the Chess Game

Some claim that  they are at the mercy
of unseen forces
playing chess with their fate
White queen to black knight..
checkmate.... you're dead....

And isn't that an easy way out?

Some claim, they have no power...
victims shoved into... the tower...
Clapped into chains...
but Prisoners only in their own brains........

And isn't that an easy way out?

And some would say...
hear me crying...
take time away from your own joy...
and join me in my dying....

And isn't that an easy way out?

They would be angered by the rejection...
of their perceived subjection...
But love does not encourage...
that entourage 
of doubt...

They would say...
how wicked...
how lacking in compassion..
that you did not listen...
to the bleating of my lamb...
as it was being slaughtered...

But, you  know...
you are NOT  that little lamb...
and the falsehood of your being  that tiny lamb will be devoured....
by the teeth of your own lion...

Its tiny bleating, ,
calls for its own dying,,
For this is a necessity to your becoming...
the lion, who within you roars....  !

And that IS...
the chess game...
that we are playing....
And your white Queen will take
your own black Knight....
But only if you let it !














Friday, May 16, 2014

Wandering the Wild Places

As I walked,
the wild path of no path,
the fingers of the fields and forest stroked my feet, my knees
with willow wisps of trillium, wild grasses and dandelion seeds.

As I drifted,
down that lazy river,
the currents and eddies which carried me in slowly dissolving perfect concentric circles
filled me with quiet, subtle, murmured tales of miracles

As I gazed,
out toward that restless ocean
listening to the symphony in the sounds of its forever motion,
the simple sound of tumbling stones, stilling all my inner commotion


My soul was brought back to life,
and I was reminded...
of....
the absolute perfection,
of a resolute and powerful connection,
the ease of having no set, particular direction,
the openness of being without any predilection,
the freedom in myself uncluttered by some silly subjugation
the simplicity of myself without complication,
filled with precious moments of quiet realization,

my heart rests...
fulfilled
by the air,
the sand,
an invisible hand....

my soul renewed ,
by the quiet,
the exquisite beauty,
of the open spaces....
my feet free to ramble...
of their own volition......
stopping all...
for awhile...
to renew my connection....




















Tuesday, April 22, 2014

I will meet you there !


Beyond the pale human definitions of right and wrong...
Behind the usual ordinary of what is seen and what is sung,
There is a garden....
I will meet you there

When time stops and silence is the only sound that thunders,
in that space beyond all human tragic, manic... blunders....
There is simple cove...
I will listen for your coming.... there


Where all the road maps end, and kings and queens of only single moments lie,
When all the thoughts and desires are quelled by our collective contented heart’s sigh,
There grows a lily....
and I will wait for you there


There, in the mountains and in the valleys, where only children play,
There, where the rivers are made of laughter and all the oceans cannot hold the towering waves of love at bay,
Within the trueness of that world....
Surely....I will find you..... there


After all the secret wounds have lost their power...and we have voiced all that could be spoken,
After all the deeds we thought must be done....lie discarded....their fragility broken,
Under the spreading arms of a wind swept cedar.....
I will rest with you, there
there.... my friend.....there
I will meet you, there

Carolyn Jackson 4/22/14