Tag Archives: TJMadelynn

Breathe


Today I walked but not alone,
through a garden of many songs.
For a gentle breeze took my hand and invited me to follow.
Transparent gold veils streamed through the forest canopy,
enticing shadows to form before my naked feet.
Upon each side of my path stood miniture armies
of violets and marigolds,
as I would pass they would brush my skin and kiss my feet.
“Thank you,” I said without a sound.
Dragonflies that laughed like rain led me to a valley frosted in petals.
I closed my eyes to inhale the apple blossom scent of childhood calling.
An azure tear fell from my eye.
Crystal liquid made of innocents became a seed for a wild-rose that awakes from the earth.
I knelt down beside the flower, held her face to my own.
Gentle I let her crimson petals caress my face, and left her with a kiss.
I lay myself down under the boughs of a willow tree.
He sways to the whisper of the great oaks songs.
I watch butterflies dance in a recital performed in my honor.
I closed my eyes.
My body and mind lie still as I drew my last breath.
My spirit awakes, atlas..
I can breathe.
Today I walked but not alone,
through a garden of many songs.

The Dance of November


If I shall wake tomorrow,
and my sights be struck with darkness-
I will be grateful.
For tonight I was blessed, to have gazed upon this site..

The fullness of my love, Dianah; Shone through periwinkle clouds.
They marched across the November sky in translucent uniform.
The dance was set to early winter’s brisk song of distant wind-chimes.
The wildly, composed harmony echoed of an enchanted lullaby.

The fields awaiting harvest swayed.
The orchestra rustled the season’s end in song.
The tall, crisp, stalks caught the illumination of the Sacred One.
She beckoned me not to turn my sights away.

The heavenly depths overhead was but the deepest of all hues.
A blended pallet of the blackest purple and bluest magenta.
The color in reason cannot be duplicated, only beloved;
as the title to the color, in our perception does not exists.

A fan of icey cool wind brushes against my face.
The bitter caress stings my nose and cheeks, my eyes fill with tears.
The tears form not from the element of cold kisses alone,
but also from the scape which sets forth before my gaze.

Distant diamonds decorate the sky and flicker to late autumn’s presentation.
It is as if they have anticipated my arrival, to perform on this gala night.
I am all to eager to comply as their private guest of honor.
As the clouds swiftly pass through the stars, they blink in perfect harmony.

I continue to walk, my sights drinking in all of the intriguing, earthly wine.
I am being intoxicated sweetly with the mysteries which awake my senses.
All of what appears before me, becomes vividly surreal.
although I have traveled this path many times, on this night it is foreign to me.

Winter’s most precious art unfolds in the passing of the pale moonlight.
It is the melencholy silohette of the twisted trees.
Their leaf ornaments of bursting colors, have become faded and withered.
The leaves have let go, falling to play freely with the wind before winter calls.

Now the bare trees must dance stiffly against the night.
Their outstretched, black, arms reach high and cascade across the horizon.
Starkly, they pose in perfect poetic sadness.
Shadows cast and twist in webs of whimsy before my steps.

I peer before my path at their moving shadow puppet designs.
O’ how they toil.
Every movement changing from one shape to the next.
They trick my site, inviting me to stay.

Ah, but my attention turns once again to Dianah.
Her calling, her hypnotic phase, so full.
She is now clothed in blankets of clouds which mimic orchid waves.
Yet, she still remains the nights beacon for all who celebrate in her luminosity.

She bares a smeared rainbow of watercolor rings around her frame.
A promise to the spirit of all her admirers.
A promise that in the darkest of her absence,
she shall always return and grace the blackness with light.

O’ What magik ignites before me on this first, of November.
What script I must write, as to journal this moment.
As to capture this time on parchment to never forget, and always remember.
To remember the fullest moon which woke my sights.
To remember the music which I hear hush and chime before the harvest.
To remember the chill of the wind which bathes my skin and brings me tears.

O’ what magik ignites before me, on this night, during the first dance..
On the first, of November.

Meet Me There


Open the sash on the window, brother
-Let in the first moments of dawn
Open the sash on the window, brother
-We shall return where we are strong

Listen, to the ghost’s story
Whistling the waltz of our past
The flame within his lantern
Reflects the truth, behind our mask

Can the sun create colors thro’ the mist
When our heart is left unkept?
How can our hand- held flowers bloom
When in the rain, is where we are left?

Meet me where the willows touch
In the land of butterflies
This is the road lit for the lost
For children with unheard cries

When we close our eyes
We can open our sights-

Join me brother, in our field
Where the strawberries run wild, and free
The birds laugh our name in yellow
Where we drift on a blanket breeze

Can you still see me, my dear-
Dressed up in lilacs of velvet?
Will you still remember me when-
The snow blows over the sunset?

‘If I should lay me down to sleep’
Ever- so gently, sing me our song
Of two babes, that went lost in the woods
; and learn that peace, is where they belong

When we close our eyes-
We can open our sights

My Hand


Seek me out to accompany you, my love
Feel my breath in the moments of the sun
See my essence thro’ the depth of the star’s deepest scape
Hear my voice call to you, within the dance of the forest
Inhale my scent from the earth’s purest perfume;
As rain is carried upon wings of a gentle breeze
My dear, this is where I shall be found

Rob my will and place it’s very kiss within your breast
As you may inherit the glitter which falls by night
Need not in the common which unfolds to mask the truth;
To do so, transparent sights shall endow your fate
For the crown of light shall be placed to adorn our brow
The hour when the curtain falls, and our spirits sing praise of rebirth

My love, tis’ this moment of eternal sands, when repetition comes to close
The flesh’s flame is buried, to extinguish the empty harvest so sought
Awake now, to gaze upon the fed wick of enchantment;
The mystic flame which ignites to your path, and calls upon you by name
Listen, as the angels of providence enter our unlocked corridor
Hushed is the sound of the whisper
Which shall entice us to ride bareback upon spiritual seduction;
And answer to the whistle of the wind

Ah! To be but truly of self
Yet, to still exsist within each blade of grass that sways
Every leaf token shall bare our fingerprint, within it’s veins;
As every new-born bud, shall find nourishment from our very womb
~We shall bask in the divinity of early dawn
~Hold hands with the rays of the sun
We shall inherit the mystery of the moon’s glow
And cast shadow-puppets throughout the land to toil

Embrace my released bodice, and hold me ever so~
For tis’ the moments of our communion
To soar together on tides unbroken;
And capture our refection upon the kissing clouds

Cloth your spirit upon the outside, allow your flesh to expire
Tis’ this death that shall invite you to take my open hand
~And eternally awake

Seek me out to accompany you, my love
Feel my breath in the moments of the sun
See my essence thro’ the depth of the star’s deepest scape
Hear my voice call to you, within the dance of the forest
Inhale my scent from the earth’s purest perfume;
As rain is carried upon wings of a gentle breeze
My dear, this is where I shall be found

~I am, but waiting..for you.

To Gaze


I watch her sit there, lovely
Beside the azure, crystal, stream
Sun laughing throughout her hair
Dandelions kissing her knees

She hums a song, familiar
Her mother once loved to sing
A song meant for her smile
Her name was the melody

Carefully, she plucks the petals
One by one, off the daisy’s crown
Thinking of ‘love me, love me not’
Releasing the tokens upon the ground

Her sky painted eyes sparkle
From the light of secret keys
Which unlock earth’s treasure
When tears lace her soft cheeks

Although, the rapture of storms will rise
On her hillside, where sunflowers speak
She adorns a blessing beside her heart
-A crucifix, with dried, rose beads

She studies the clouds play masquerade
While they sail across a lazy sky
Curiously, they shift to change shape
Silently, she wonders deep inside~

-Why could I not be born a bird,
To soar with open arms, so free?
I would decorate each sunset;
And get lost within a night breeze

-Why can I not be dressed with wings,
To harbor the beauty of a dove?
Why is my gift, soil beneath my feet,
Has my flesh not suffered enough?

Then, windows of her eyes wept sorrow
-Like two panes that frame melting, stained glass
She raises her arms and face, to heaven
Worship renews her spirit at last

She can hear the calling whisper
-Of the wind caress the trees
Inhales the scent of blossoms
-While the earth beneath her breathes

I watch her set there, lovely
Beside the azure, crystal, stream
Sunlight laughing throughout her hair
Dandelions kissing her knees

I look for just a moment longer
Into the reflection, which is.. me
Dip my finger to twirl the water
To gaze at my spirit, dance in peace