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A mid-week poem: Falling
I have been absent from this blog for too long. I’ve missed the writing. I still write my “morning pages” almost every day but the poetry isn’t coming; lots of titles and ideas but little inspiration. There is so much chaos out there right now; it’s difficult to make sense of it!
So, I am falling!
Falling
Equinox behind, beyond balance,
Nights grow longer, shadows deepen.
Already inside, isolating, avoiding;
The waiting for darkness somehow soothes.
Breathing slows, drops, lengthens;
Eyes close, focus softens, turns inward.
An easy scan, toes to nose, body subsiding;
This is an inside job now; just breathe, be.
The falling isn’t downward but inward,
Into that core of self, being.
The gyro at the base of that core spins;
It stabilizes giving the body purpose.
Rest, be easy, let in the light;
No shadow here, on the inside.
©2020 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.
MONDAY’S POEM: Cosmic Aura
In case you hadn’t noticed, dear reader, I love the Fall. For many reasons it is my favorite season. One thing I particularly enjoy is watching the changing qualities of the light. Every day seems different, but the underlying quality is gold. My last couple of poems posted here are recent ones as I relish these shortening days filled with wonderful light, color, sounds, smells, all those sumptuous “flavors” of late harvest (so full and sweet) and the coming cold!
Cosmic Aura
Bright day follows cool morning rain.
That tale lingers in the glisten on the deck,
The scattering gray at the eastward edge.
Now is a fine day dawning.
There is gold lighting the canopy.
The trees reflect the Cosmic Aura.
That radiant light begins within,
Extends outward to fill
The entire known Universe –
And beyond (we don’t know much!).
It is a deep light, endless,
Dancing ecstatically at the edge,
Holding boundless love
In the gossamer fingers of God,
Arms of Goddess holding Cosmos to her breast.
©2014 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.
FRIDAY’S POEM FROM “RHYTHMS AND CYCLES” – The Fall
We’ve had some gloomy days lately here in Maryland and the warm weather continues into our deepening fall. How much longer can winter hold off? Everyone is talking about a hard winter and the signs for one are there. Yet we wait. Today’s poem has this same mood about it:
The Fall
The predicted rain
Remains suspended.
A light breeze plays
In the mostly green trees
Just beginning to show signs
Of age.
There is a waiting quality to
This Presence.
It’s as if something momentous
Is about to happen,
Yet it holds, a bit longer
Building anticipation
For the Fall.
©2014 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.
Please enjoy!
Men and The Goddess 