Awakening

Glowing mist shrouds slivered moon,
red- -morning light pierces the horizon- -
minus fifteen degrees- -
complete silence.
Wandering night shadows
slip away,
ice ornaments glisten- -
nature crisp and clean- -embraces
my senses- -electric.
I listen and cling to every particle
- -miracles. 
Sage smoke offered inward,
upward- -outward,
I give thanks.
Earth’s eternal love
never sleeps,
unmasked in the dawning
she feeds my soul.
Bird’s wing flutter stirs
snow from branches,
even whispered echoes ripple- -
 action and reaction in motion
turning, churning- -
learning my way back
through ancestral dreams.
It’s an unconditional thing,
nature’s awakening
in this new year.

Copyright 2011, by Suzie Ashby.

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I Opened a Box

And there he was- -fragmented
- -still
in silver webs of silence- -dreaming.

Inside- -
his fragments- -thumb a ride with life.
Daylight breaks blue and gold
across fresh snow,
never mind the cold, he’s alive.

Love’s breath lingers, a frozen mist- -
golden morning angel wings
surround his face- -tear crystals
hang momentarily
in the grand scheme of grace.

Both life and time- -indifferent- -
infringement on a broken mind, falling.
Transient soul hungers
for a heart-shaped pillow- -
a friendly smile- -coat
from a stranger’s arms warms
for a while.  Memories- -ghosts- -
family’s love to cling to.
What can we do- -God
what can we do?
Angel wings flutter- -somewhere
inside- -somewhere inside
love comes in phone calls from heaven.

I find a picture to cherish a while. 

Copyright 2010, by Suzie Ashby.

Reasons

I’ve only had two
this morning- -
reasons for crying
come easy
before dawn,
dreaming
- -happy times
long since gone.

Copyright 2010, by Suzie Ashby.

Lone Journey

In dawn’s stillness
green canoe floats gently
on sky’s image- -
a dreamscape of morning’s
blue satin reflection.

Oarsman rests- -
assimilating solitude,
a bonding of soul and Earth.

Rippling
water dances around him
a ballet of silver-blue
poetry on the pond.

Steamy bone white vapor
tentacles rise- -delivering
syllables to his eyes so he
may recite them with imagery.
- -He holds both long and short
vowels within the vessel of his lungs
to be uttered
in a single
softly whispered breath.

Reaching in- -
from the cup of his hands
he drinks the words
so he may taste the sunrise
of his lone journey.

He laughs
gloriously- -knowing
for a time- -this place
is his- -ALONE.

Copyright 2010, by Suzie Ashby.