Poetry of Your Making

Some grow in unison, yet others do not. When flowers appear and disappear they open to its glory after Spring showers and summer cusp. When you open the way to Spring, so do flowers in its life.

You are red and light, yet also know what you are; A sun is what you are. Then rise as the sun does, oh  flower of the east, oh flower of the flower garden that blooms when you rise, as will the sun one day, as will the sun one day.

You are hidden, yet there, oh yellow daisy in the bank. You are there oh daisies in the corner. Then glow like a baby in a crib, glow as the life of you does in the banks, in the banks, in the Garden of Eden, in the Garden of Life, in the Garden of Love.

A field? A garden? Or both. Never fade, oh field of flowers, never fade, oh love of the sun and of the rain and of the opening of your imminent glory as I wait for your glorious reign before Summer calls.

When you write poetry for the sake of ars poetica, be sure to know what it means to see and understand the life around the poem and not the picture as it can distract you as a poet so caution for those who read and understand.

When you walk, remember the road and know. Be open to its walk and  wander in awe as it opens to you. Road and being aware becomes its own making as you stand and walk its path to the everlasting grace of its being.

Be holy to your creation and be open as the buttercup, yet as holy as the clover.

Be open to God, and you will know his making, his worth, and yours. Call and answer, and He will hear you and know you.

You are a light, yet you also shadow before God and pray.

You are a garden. Open, Garden, Open.

When you open the way, be sure to guide up and it will open the way to its birth.

You are the moon, then light. The moon is full, then be open to its light. Flower, oh moon, flower your light onto the open field and glow. When you know, be open to its glory as everlasting yet ever changing, as ever changing as the seasons and the awakening of the sun, that never changes or dies.

Peach tree next to plum.

Poetry coming soon…

You are of bud and are not ready, but you will be.

Buttercup

You are real, then be aware of my becoming. As you grow, grow further and flourish as others do.