Sweet Captivity

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Somewhere~

in the silent breath twixt unconcious bliss

and first morning light’s dewy kiss

my soul stands still,

my mind’s free will

unfettered by the constraints

of cruel convention,

what strange dimension

of perfect comprehension,

the bliss of awakening.

Gone the phantasm of night,

its war of demons driven back

by crystal shards of daylight~

my heart softly weeps

for the memory sleeps

on within its cell,

magic’s darkest spell

lingering,

fingering

the rusty keys,

tormenting,

unrelenting.

The choice  my own,

the seeds were sown

so long ago.

How could I know 

such sweet  fruit

would wither, rotten

in the garden of the forgotten,

where silence is not golden

but deafeningly black and blue~

It waits there for you.

 

Cheryl KP copyright words and images 2019

This post brought to you by blogger Linda Hill

Check out her blog for other great posts and prompts!

And if you’re in the mood for more foggy tales, visit Dan at the bar today

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Angels I Have Known

There are times I feel as though I have been to the summit of Life’s perfection and others when I swear I have plummeted to the bowels of its darkest pit. My heart knows the truth, however, which is that this life has been so blessed. I have known great sorrows and tremendous joys in these nearly 60 years. Did you hear me say that? 60, as in 6-0. Six decades, 3,120 weeks, some 21,900 days. I won’t count the moments because the only moment that counts is this one. But you get the point.

The one certainty in all of my life has been the presence of a power that has guided, protected and comforted me. For the sake of commonality I like to think of them as angels, angels being in this instance those souls working under the guidance of Love. Sometimes we pray for help and angels appear, but more often than not these entities have shown up in my life when I least expected and sometimes did not even realize until they had passed through.

I want to spend some of the last months of my 6th decade remembering and honoring those precious Warriors of Light, the gentle spirits who watched over, patiently encouraged and guided me, laughed and cried with me, and saved me from my most fearful shadow monsters.

I have had Debbie on my mind these last weeks, missing her voice, her gentle unassuming wisdom and total non judgmental love. We met online through a spiritual web site. Both of us had lost very dear loved ones and although we shared similar religious histories, we both had come to a greater understanding of the Creator’s presence in our lives. From the first email she sent to me privately in 1999 until the day she passed away in 2016, I felt as though we were soul mates and had known one another long before we came intto this life. In a friendship that spanned over 15 years, we only shared actual physical space on three occasions, but we communicated nearly every day during most of those years which included hours of heartfelt phone sessions. She and her husband were angels to me and my family. I still can’t believe she is no longer here with us, but her presence and influence was so profound that I always feel her with me.

Many rungs on my ladder upward to higher understanding were reached because she helped me up.  And held me up. That’s what loving friends do. They don’t ask why you are angry, don’t try to reason things out and fix them for you, or set limits on their support. Friends just say, “I’m sorry you are in pain. Do you need anything from me?” That kind of friendship is so hard to come by, but I have been so blessed in my life to know many of these people, some related and others related through spirit.

Debbie liked to say that Life was a school where we all come to learn and to earn our wings and graduate. I believe the wings that carried her into this world were even more magnifcient when they carried her home.

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What I wouldn’t give for one more hour with you, my dear friend. You introduced me to so many beautiful things. A Course in Miracles, The Four Agreements, Enya, Sarah Brightman, Josh Groban, Elizabeth Kubler Ross, my favorite Chandrika soap, the lovely Naples beaches, sharing food all around the table with family-and to think we met because of Bruce Moen and his Afterlife Knowledge site. Not surprisingly, my Angel of a husband found that site for me due to my continued struggle over losing my Mom 16 years earlier and being unable to make peace with the loss. I hope you found each other over there. You and she have so much in common.

This one is for you, dear friend.

Thank you for helping me to accept that I am as God created me. I will never forget.

Time and Again/#1LinerWednesday

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Adrift on a sea of velvet dreams-

soft, pink memories that fade

in the harsh light of reality.

I wander through the hallows

of the forgotten, where moments

sharp as cut diamonds tempt my

hopeful heart, whisper my name-

beckoning, taunting, haunting,

cruel, heartless passion!

Tis a lonely journey,

wheel of life an endless round,

seeking love that won’t be found,

that cannot hear

the beat of a tender heart.

Over and around, up

and down. In and out

and round about.

So, even if there be no end

what can be lost if thus a friend

is made along the way?

What more to say?

Better, then, to have a friend

and not impassioned story end,

than wrapped in deep desire

to sink writhing in its mire

without friendship’s  warm

embrace to fan the fire.

Can you see me?

Can you feel me

like a whisper,

as a prayer,

a breath,

regret?

 

Cheryl KP

Copyright Words and photo 2019

 

 

 

What Matters…

What we hold in the palm of our hands,

delicate gift, the heart understands.

What we possess but forget

in the wake of regret

withers in shadow

of doubt.

 

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Fragrant remains of desire,

kindling for funeral pyre,

The bits that you clutch,

have so numbed your touch,

while faint memory lingers

I slip through your fingers

as dust in the wind

and no way to mend

the bridge that once

called you a friend.

Forgotten.

 

CKP copyright words and Photo

2018

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hanging Around/Photography

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The empty air between us seems

so thick, so distant, as in dreams.

Memory fades to hazy view,

framed in melancholy hue.

Razor’s edge once cut so deep

now

rusts in pools of tears I weep.

I wept-no more-the well is dry,

the burden gone, with wings I fly,

no more bemoan what might have been,

how sadder now the days than then-

still…

above the noise sometimes is found

the thought of you hanging around,

the buzz,

the glint,

the sting,

the scent,

more bitter than sweet.

 

CherylKp 2018

 

This fellow and another were determined to be noticed this weekend. So I stood there with my camera taking dozens of shots in manual mode just to capture the essence in one or two images. I was determined too!

 

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