Reflections
poetry by Linda L. Creech
Images Of A Soul

We walk along a chosen path in life
and from time to time, may stop by a whispering creek to listen to its secrets.
Linger awhile and you may find the images of a soul.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

At The Edge Of Darkness

While the world lies sleeping, a rosy stillness
paints the dawning of a bright new day
with hope and expectation, chasing dark shadows.
Sunrays glitter across tree tops awakening
melodies lost and songs found only in the soul.
Come with me to the edge of darkness and drink
the nectar of a new day.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Contradiction

She prayed in the early light of morning,
softly chanting her mantra over and over ~
A picture of tranquility, no sound of grief
to me so, why is she called
the Mourning dove?


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Oasis

A quarter century ago, just yesterday,
I sealed my fate interlacing my soul with yours
forever. The shadow I've walked in every since,
my unfailing companion.
Storms raged, sun shined, winter snow drifts
yours and mine all faded into one life.
A golden sunset faintly glimmers ~
perhaps a quarter century away.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~









FINDING THE PATH
Today And Now

The hands of time can not be stilled not changed, rearranged nor willed to be different.
They hold you to a standard time. Today and now unrelenting, will not show you how things might have been only how they are. Unfinished tasks of yesterday still remain tomorrow and guilt, no matter how deserved will only bring you sorrow. Awaken with the dawn each day continue on your way. It's futile to relive the past and tomorrow's another day.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Lost In Time

It was a place of yesterday, scrub pine and thicket intertwined, a place of strange birds, bugs and shy snakes the color of sunsets.
An eerie quiet broken by the rustle of small animals hiding from the light of day ... and me.
I wandered down paths not made by man, treading softly in the sand, wondering about the future ~
not tomorrow, but what the next minute would bring, and I swore I heard angels sing in this
most ancient place, or maybe it was just the breeze through Palm trees swaying.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~



Minuet In Morning

A cotton garden danced in morning sun, imposters
dressed like old friends she once knew, and you
danced too, a minuet upon the cloth.
Lulled by fragrance drifting on the wind
you lingered for a moment there in time trying
to decipher this colorful strange place.
She sat there in the warmth and watched you
dance, astonished that you'd come to her by chance
and that you stayed. She held her breath there ~
motionless, not wanting you to fear and when at last you flew, a tiny bit of her soul lay softly
on your wings dancing minuets in morning sun.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Beyond Spring

This path I walk today, I've walked before
with barefoot
innocence when crocus danced
and tulips kissed the dawn.
I ran between raindrops breathlessly, with tender
hope and faced my bright new world.
Seasons passed and like the butterfly emerging,
my wings dried and I flew away in summer's sun.
More seasons passed.
I grew as willows grow
and learned to weep,
bending with the winds of time, returning
to reach down and touch the path I knew so well.
I stopped a moment in the shade, remembering ~
the tender hope and innocence of childhood.
IN A LAND OF DREAMS
Listening

I have listened to the melodies sung
by poets, to their heart's clear beating,
their soul's crescendoing in the light of dawn,
at the set of sun.

My heart holds fast to the peace and joy
of images my mind will forever keep
as I trod through wind paths in the trees
and float on clouds in a heavenly breeze.

While on this journey, I have joined
heart, mind and soul with those like me
and sit at their feet listening
to each melody,
having become one with them.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The Weaver

I watched you weave your silken thread,
a tapestry carefully sown from leaf to leaf,
your faith was so strong that ~
God provides.
My admiration swelled,
against all odds you would prevail
as a sudden hail storm chased me inside,
but you had no place to hide and I was sure
your life was done.
When morning came, dripping buttered rays of sun
upon the leaves, you emerged unscathed.
Your little snare in shambles, you began again
this artistry
and wove your tapestry for you knew ~
God provides.
Favourite links

Christmas on Our Street


Email me at:
[email protected]

This page has been visited times.