Beyond the Moon, Beyond the Planets, Beyond the Stars

Telescoping heart
You find stars in flight
Falling into love

In the countenance of the unknown is all that is known. Faith has a way of moving us beyond our limitations. There is a God particle that gives sight to the blind. The stars of heaven know the story and the glory that forever moves in hearts that believe. Into love we fall.

Kathy Paysen 2013

What does this poem mean?

What does this poem mean?

Life is in Search of Meaning

Dear hassop123,

How refreshing to have a poet stumble over another poet's thoughts. I applaud your honesty and curiosity.

Poetry is such a multifaceted thought ... it is sometimes hard to pinpoint what pushes a poet to invest time in some fleeting passage.

I have been writing on this site for over four years. I have come to recognize the patterns in the deepest part of my being. I suspect that some of my deepest thoughts are of the universe, universal.

I grew-up, most of us did, in a Walt Disney culture, a culture where one can wish upon a star (makes no difference where they are). I find great comfort in stars and the unknown. The stars and the unknown give me hope.

Gazing on stars is like anticipating what heaven holds for us.

In truth, the economy has shaken me to the core of my being. So many of my friends have lost jobs, are underemployed, have adult children that are struggling, and are forced to migrate to a state that holds better prospects for survival.

I wrote this unconventional (haiku of sorts) in a moment of despair. I saw my heart as a telescope with a lens that could magnify a beautiful night filled with hope. A lot of my writing is a means to pray, to look inward, to balance fear and hope.

I see church (in today's world) as a means to find God by finding time to gaze and be amazed. As I grow-up (older), I realize that nature was there for me as a very young child, and nature is here for me as an older child.
Does one ever really grow-up?

This is nothing more than the folly of my heart trying to find peace in twinkling lights and the power of my imagination.

This is certainly not a good piece of poetry, but it is a moment that mattered enough to print.

Again, thanks for the refreshment of caring about my thoughts this day, in this moment.

You certainly must be a very caring soul. May all your wishes come true dear heart ... wish upon a star.

Warm regards,

Kathy :o)

Dallas, Texas

P.S. It is my day off from work ... and I am pondering writing some very dark art. I never know what happens when the spark hits the page. Poetry is certainly a viewfinder.

Thanks for giving me the means to have meaning. God is like the dot-to-dot coloring pages ... the picture comes into view ... only after making the journey through the stars.

Beyond the moons, beyond the planets, beyond the stars ... there is God ... there is never ending love called heaven.

I beg to differ

Leaking Pen
Dear Kathy
Visionary forms the all seeing eye
Nature is your easel, and the poetry brush your colors and hues, please keep indulging us with these follies
beauty reside in every verse in the universe your verse , but only you have the key to unlock and share with us what our eyes could only dream of, you need no apologies or justifications, we are drawn to your celestial spirit, like the beats to every living heart, keeping us alive and well

The Harvest


I don't know what I ever did to deserve you ... but I am so happy to have you.

The old work ethic in America was found in her fields. My grandmother grew-up on a farm in North Dakota. Her parents were from Germany. In those days, everyone stayed home from school for the harvest. The entire family was involved in the work of the land.

Hard work and nature have been part of the American Dream. Today, working in retail, I see people meandering to buy, buy, buy, while there are so many that cry, cry, cry. The culture changes are further evidence that our humanity has led us to self-destruction.

If we could get back to the garden, the stars, and each other, we would find the glory of earning a living, and sharing what we have.

I am dressed and ready to meet another day in retail. It is not the hard work that worries me, it is the mindset of today's youth and employer, that ignore the obvious, we are connected. Poetry is my way of planting thoughts for myself (truly) and those that stumble upon what another/I think, imagine.

I always go back to the knights of the round table and the joy of having a buddy (like yourself) that gives me a place to hang my armor.

I am open to any comments about my poetry. I love the opportunity to dialogue. Very often our comments are better than our verse, and for that I am grateful. Poetry Showcase is a community of lovers, and that makes all the difference to me.

Welcoming (poetic) arms of this community have given me enough hope to start a hope factory. :o)


Kathy :)

Dallas, Texas

Hope Factory

Leaking Pen
Dear Kathy
Heart Of hope from The Sunflower
I agree with you, I shelter in hope through poetry, I often feel like a foreigner in a foreign land, I don't understand and can't communicate with the youth of our time, they have their own mind set and mannerism, Gibran said that our children are not our children, we belong to the the past, they belong to the world of tomorrow, although civility was on his mind when he wrote his famous book, there is such a great divide, I don't like to make a blanket statement, but in this case I do agree with you, lead me to your round table, I hope you can write a poem on the lost of the communal round table, it will frame what is lacking in our hope for tomorrow

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