Upon the shadow of an autumn’s morn

A Black Monk mounted a time forlorn

A tree set into fire, a sepulcher’s flame

Life bound in vows, a Church’s domain

Wedded to sky, she weeps

Sweeping over the waters

A cold statue of solid rock

Holding an open umbrella

Fading as a gull under mist

A grey guardian of an earth

Bound in wounds, the flames did rise

An angel’s language, where truth lies

Tongues of fire dancing on cave walls

Horses running where the spear falls

Disappointment is like a fine tooth comb
The human condition, like lice infestation
In their gestation, our humiliation itching
To find a way to annihilate embarrassment

Kathy Paysen 2012

Alone in her thoughts

Day turned to shadow

An undecided reason

To feel the earth spin

Colors splashing hard

Against a soul palette

Tilting against the sun

An insight heightened

Parrots in a tree
Repeating what they have heard
Repeat after me

Each, their very own
Love is the flower we grow
Life is a bouquet

Climbing dreams, mountains high

Finding sea, in colors of a sunrise

Cloud bursts of one upon another

Rain to tears, into hearts of others

Unknown to Earth, Spirit of a sky

Into grey wind ash does blow
Burnt offerings of such a time
A number off a war torn page
The stench of war into clouds
A fog that rolls across nations
The mist of morning in silence

Time fell from orbit

Silent goes the light

Ocean brushed blue

Black pouring night

Grey clouds hidden

Rain that lifts in red

Green the eyes shut

Windows lit instead

A golden urn unearthed this day

Hieroglyphics where angels pray

Bumblebees etched into tablets

Light into visions of time ecstatic

Fabric lit in the spectrum of suns

In a harp’s song, the strings flow

Pulling at moments, to gently go

Beyond the last note, light as air

Tumbling thoughts without care

Seeking time to abandon matter

A palette knife spreads spring

Brown limbs rising into green

Shade wedded to golden light

Earth framed in soft branches

Listless the breath of morning

Mindless the bounty of beauty

She plucked four stones from the sea

Into her white apron stars fell silently

Wet stones, polished in black storms

Barefoot she pressed into time forlorn

Summer melted into white

A steeple laced in sunlight

Valley shadows of the day

Trees hushed, bent to pray

Silence calling to the wind

Ivory butterflies rushing in