Soul Whisper

Breathe, said the teacher. Breathe and be.

My soul whispered, “Follow me!”

As I sat and breathed, my soul and I walked

As you’d expect, I mostly talked.

“I can’t understand, just can’t cope.”

My soul was quiet – was there hope?

Breathe, said the teacher. Breathe and see.

The child just ahead looked like – me!

The little girl waved me on;

I wondered how long I’d been gone.

We ran up a gentle hill

And saw a brook by the trees so still.

“I remember this stream, where I once sat!”

And after I marveled at that,

I saw my father who’d long since passed:

An angry man found peace at last.

“Never worry,” said my Dad

“It did nothing but made me sad.”

I pondered this, then saw my cat,

And heard his purr – how about that?

I’d forgotten favorite colors, too:

Burgundy and aqua blue,

The perfume I wore to English class,

And my first martini glass!

“It’s all with you, you just forgot,”

My soul chuckled. My face felt hot,

Embarrassed to shed a silly tear.

My soul whispered,

“I’m still here.”

© Judith C Evans 2011

Written for Thursday Think Tank's prompt #76 -- soul's whisper
and posted at Thursday Poets Rally #57

Many thanks to Thursday Poets Rally at The Poetry Palace for this award...I am humbled and honored! I nominate NeiNei for the award.

Winter winds blow ice
but poetic souls gather --
encouraging words.


  

Winter's Watch

Winter watches with bated breath.
Autumn ignites a fiery death spiral.
Winter waits in respectful silence.
In the interim hush, the darkest nights
Herald the newborn sun.
Winter quietly steps forward as we close the blinds
And make tomorrow's careful plans.

We awaken early for work or school,
Mistaken, we're sure;
Only a Sunday morning would
Be so still.

Winter watches, amused,
As indignant surprise and rattling plows
Mingle with youthful delight and scraping sleds.
Feral cats stare at us,
Assigning blame for this outrage.
Winter sighs, depleted.

Sunlight, too brilliant for comfort,
Blossoms from the clouds in a southwest wind.
"Good thing," we remark,
In a nod to those who wait outside
The rescue mission across the street.

© Judith C Evans 2009

[Submitted to Thursday Poets Rally #46...join us!]

Soulmates

What will it be like?
What will I be like?
Will I be graceful as I disembark,
          dreaming yet awake, with all my
          ghosts, into the newness of "we"?
Will my hair be smooth?
Will my seams be straight?
When well-rehearsed phrases dissolve
          into wordless gratitude,
Will it even matter?

Twin souls, weary of estrangement,
          ready to mend,
In separate places in separate  times:
We each unknowingly raised this cup
          from that eternal wellspring which
          loves us both.
We now sip from that cup, together,
Are restored,
And give praise.

© Judith C Evans 2009

[Submitted to Thursday Poets Rally #45]

Poetry found me.
Leap into the creative
-- write life!

I am honored to accept this Perfect Poet Award for Poets Rally 45. I would like to  nominate Raivenne  for the next award.

The Fire of Unwelcome Ideas

Dedicated to one of my heroes, Thomas Paine (1737-1809), author of Common Sense -- the pamphlet that sparked the American Revolution. "Spark from the altar of liberty" and "1776" were two of his pen names.

The Fire of Unwelcome Ideas


Spark from the altar of liberty
Will you finish this poem with me?
My words stumble from fatigue
My eyes burn from writing too long.

1776, your specter steadies my hand.
Let me see with your eyes
This unmarked trail that leads too far.
Unjustly reviled, adored by a few friends,
A mere offer of rum and a hearty handshake
Gladdened your solitary heart -
But only if your absence after taking a stand
Sufficed to smooth ruffled sensibilities in part.

Stay at least and watch as I select the words
That will seal my fate.
Nod your head slowly, "I know,"
As I write head on into the fire
Of unwelcome ideas.

© Judith C Evans 2010

Posted on Thursday Poets Rally #44 .