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Saturday, March 25, 2017

FROM MY EYES

















From My Eyes



I cry music
From my eyes

Liquid melody
Falling in rhythm

Down a face
That knows the rain

Did you see it?
The new song?

Did you hear it?
It played for you.





©by Voo
April 16, 08
11:35 p.m.




                        



















IN YOUR PARADISE































In Your Paradise 



What are you doing? he asked 
As I answered the phone 
On a sunny, sacred 
Autumn  afternoon.                                           

Without hesitation, in my poetic way 
I replied, I am lying in a green and white room 
Full of sunshine and rainbows
That are spun by little twirling prisms
In the bared windows               
                                                                                      
On a white sofa 
Covered by a faux white mink throw, 
Listening to the most gorgeous music 
On the planet Earth.                                                                         

 
A bamboo water fountain in the corner of the room 
Is tickling my ears with it's delicate water song 
And the cat is curled upon the carpet 
In his favorite spot of warm Vitamin D.

I am sipping from a cup of green tea           
Reading a book by an incredible woman 
Who has traversed the world on amazing adventures 
And in the traversing, learned who she is and who she is not.

 
I am gloriously happy in my little house 
And my green and white room 
Full of music and sun and peaceful moments 
That I find so rarely in this run amok world.

It is a haven here now, alone, quiet, lovely
I have all I need for the moment 
Dinner is cooking on the stove and the aroma is wonderful 
Outside, the birds are rehearsing for an afternoon symphony 
And I am their eager audience.

I feel no need to speak,                                                         
To hear no other voice, 
To go anywhere or to do anything 
But what I am doing now.

Soon, I will write a poem 
And try to describe what it is I am feeling 
And thinking and hearing on this beautiful Sunday afternoon 
But that will come later.
                                                                                                  
                                                                                     
Right now, I am content to just be
To just listen and hear and taste and touch 
The supernatural beauty of this natural gift, 
This day that only God could make, 
This peace that only He can give.

It doesn't take much to make me happy 
It doesn't have to be a palace,                                           
It doesn't require a private island, 
I do not need to be a queen.

 
All I need is what I have, 
Who I am, where I lie, 
A gentle sigh, a ray of sun, 
An orange leaf, a flow of water, 
A violin and I am happy.

And he was quiet                                                    
With contemplation 
I heard him thinking, 
I felt him yearning 
Over the phone from miles away.

And he said 
And what about me, Voo? 
What about me? 
Is there no spot 
In that paradise in which you lie 
No need or want or place for me?

And without answer, 
I hung up the phone 
As gently as I could 
Because I didn't want to say 
What I wanted to say ...........


Perhaps when the night falls, 
Perhaps, I'll change my mind 
But in this moment, 
I'm sorry,
No,                                

 ©byVoo 
October 28, 2012 
a  true story
for S.




                                                 Agua de cristal-Costa de Almería










      



RIVERS AGO



Rivers Ago



Rivers ago
I fought an un-win-able battle
I thought I knew the answers
But only questions came to light
When I laid my weary head 
Beneath the wayward stars.


You were there, always
An inch away from true love
And a million miles from me
Dancing in somebody else’s starlight
Quenching your thirst with a stranger’s wine
But never mine.


I’ve made it a habit
Of crossing rivers just to cross them
Going from one side to the other
Looking forward, looking back
To see which side looks better
But there’s no difference on either side for me.


You were fool’s gold
When I thought you were pure
Thought I’d found the mother lode of all love
The hidden treasure, the pearl of great price
The shelter for my homeless heart
But you tarnished when I held you in my hands.


Still I hoped
Until hope was drained by drought
And even then, dredged for your love
In the mud of dis-consolation
You were always on the wrong side of every river
And I never learned to swim.


  

  


©by Voo
Feb 10, 08




                      

                   Bea's song by Cowboy Junkies
I was listening to them while writing this.....