Tag Archives: Poem

Wishful Thinking

Give him some days to gaze upon the week; a few hours to while-away his minutes. In time, he will realize the years of silence born out of his existence of being alone was futile. And out of the mist of nocturnal daydreaming, he will finally grasp the timeless maze of love.

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Star stuff and God dust

When you wish upon a star, are you praying to god or God? Is it from the heart or your mind that you hope for an answer? Are they one and the same in time?

We come from star stuff say some wise folk. Others preach from dust we come and dust we go. Many wonder at the nature of life; so short does it shine – gathering within it time sublime while blind minds feast with no rhyme. Is there fire in the soul for both sights to please?

Out there, out there – in deep time somewhere – dare we dream of the journey of our beginning? Does that mean we start at the end; how should we compare? Will we know the peace of life that spills from within us? Shall we just bask in the dust sprinkles golden with truths many say we must.

When you wish upon a star, are you being real or trying to feel?  Is it from dreams hidden in your You;  sparking itself alive like mind-fire true. Glory! Star Stuff and God Dust – pray tell – it that you looking back from heaven upon yourself?  Or is it your heart telling you mind to get over itself and adjust.

 

“When your heart speaks, take good notes”  ——Unknown

 

Excerpt from “Rainbow Stories and Waterfall Men” – a collection of poems and prose.

 

Copyright(c) January, 2017. Roads, Paths and Trails. All Rights Reserved

The Gifts

Fan the fire in her eyes; nourish that dream in her heart –

Drench her mind in a golden ray of hope; as you wrap her soul in purpose.

Make sure she hears the wonders of time.

Guide her with the winds of passion;

Then give her your love to wear like a crown.

 

 

An excerpt from “Rainbow Stories and Waterfall Men” – a collection of poems and prose.

 

Copyright(c) January, 2017. Roads, Paths and Trails. All Rights Reserved

Mirror, Mirror

You were little, and then you were not – my baby boy; missed you a lot.  In between our minds, next we knew it was teen-time; lost time and more blindness; leaving hurt all around.  Love swirling – never ending, never bending; came without bounds…taking root, no longer at the foot, rising tall – can’t understand about the fall.  Stepping it off – make the most of grace and all.

Man, man -truly grand to see me in you.  By the hour the power of children creating time lines and mine kinds; just like you when you were me all over again. And so it begins to dawn that the best – always the best, that’s true – was given to you.

Copyright (c) Frank Doughton and Roads, Paths, & Trails.  2015