Cut Time

Whatever our life orbits around, there we will be. Starved, in a universe that grows, stars multiply so that we may come to consciously know. Irrelevant we stand so firmly in sifting sand that has seen what we have yet to understand.

The metronome sat on the piano, keeping cut time, as she dusted the feathers from the shelves. They fell in slow motion on the pastoral tapestry of her castle. In the silence was a tangible feeling, an eclipse of emotion that longed for sun.

Gilded portraits and eaves of colored birds stared as she flitted from shelf to shelf, from book to book, to push feathers to the floor.

Such a magnificent view; a monumental home collecting feathers of every hue. It was like a storm cloud of rain molting rivers of feathers, soft, vibrant feathers.

Luxury is far more than time can afford, it is the obvious, the undisturbed beauty that takes flight and nests where it is noticed.

In her red hat, one long white feather moved as she rushed to clear each shelf. This was the token of a love that grew, a love so profound, the stars moved.

And in the fireplace, a fire grew, not flames of red, but flames of blue. Galaxies of light swirled under the mantle, and the wind fell from the chimney in circular whispers.

The candles lit themselves and the feathers swam like koi in streams of immeasurable joy. Gathering speed, the feathers made a tornado around the woman, so silently they swept her feet.

Her spectacles fell from her eyes, and her red hat with the long white feather fell gracefully on the keys of the piano. In cut time, the piano played, it played while the tides of colors swept her far, far away.

Into chapters, long forgotten, she was draped, her eyes blazing on characters good and rotten. She was there among them, the living and the dead. They could not see her, but there she was summoned to dance, in cut time, in a flurry of feathers.

The sun grew as she danced and the fragrance of old became the fragrance of new. How fragrant the dance of feathers, of guardians of every hue.

Trees moved their leaves in the rush of feathers, and the hillsides began blooming in cut measures. How illuminating the dream sequence of nests, of love, of earth, of quests.

Billowing inward, the stars fell into the curtains, the chapters kept coming, the gravity of such thoughts, so certain.

Her feet bare and glistening, she swam in feathers bold. In cut time she dusted away all that she had been told. She took her understanding and placed it in her heart, no longer the center, she became its part.

She stopped to hear the music and touch the metronome. Her castle became the heaven she had always known.

And there in the center of the room, where love had always been, was a God holding a white feather, where this love story did begin.

She smiled as she dusted all that mattered in her life: her stories, the colors, and the center of her strife.

Be as it may, from dust to dust, our dreams are swept away.

Whatever our life orbits around, there we will be. Starved, in a universe that grows, stars multiply so that we may come to consciously know. Irrelevant we stand so firmly in sifting sand that has seen what we have yet to understand.

Kathy Paysen 2014

I might not understand much but

Leaking Pen
Dear Kathy
It has been a while since I found your glowing star among the galaxies, I might be lost among the grain of sands, but one thing I know for sure how lovely it is to dwell in the house of your poetry, you have captured the universe and hid it in your purse and each time you let out few bright stars to twinkle in our eyes as we marvel at the lights that beam from your power house, time stood still when you waived your poetic voice, for time and tide took centre stage to be in your poetry
Truly
Paul

Understanding, Compassion

Dear Paul,

As years have marched forward, I have listened and learned from hearts that care. A little kindness goes a very long way.

I like to feel my poetry, to get a sense that I am writing with intent and purpose. I like poets, like yourself, that do this too.
It helps me realize that hope is beautiful and that no one can take dreams and love away from us.

I think of you often. You gave me such a warm welcome to Fort Lauderdale. I loved the way you welcomed me. I must say, I do love every part of Florida so far. It is a very special place and I am grateful to experience her beauty.

Now, if I could just make a living ... a living that keeps me motivated ... and makes me feel like corporate America is not a big sling shot and I am the rock. I have grown so positive and wish I had a place to use my passion, my purpose.

I needed this little comment from you today. I have had a pretty upsetting day ... but I pray all will fare well in the end ... as usual. I write of hope, love, and light ... and that is where I want to stay.

I hope all is well with you dearest Paul. I have tried to do some electronic painting with a mouse and some of it turned out pretty well. I am eager to try acrylic or oil paints in the future. I still play at water colors a bit.

What has been happening on your side of the planet? I always love hearing from you. It is great to have a soul mate, a very nice soul mate indeed.

Again, thanks for always giving me a reason to write ... and trust my inner dialogue. May blessings pour on you dear friend.

Love,

Kathy xo

Fort Lauderdale, Florida

I am visiting California next week for one week. I will visit my Dad, my children, family, and friends. I am looking forward to my time there.

Sainthood

Leaking Pen
Dear Kathy
Heart Of The True Sunflower
Life has it ups and down, lately I have been in a wintery mood, not sure why, and poetry has been reflecting the mirror of my soul, I know I will bounce back, sooner that later I hope, this roller coaster we call life has me in a bind, I am waiting for Sunshine to burst in my world again, I am glad you are enjoying your new home in Florida, when I was there I had a great time, the Sun, the ocean, some of the parks lovely, I hope they inspire you the way they did me, and you are not alone we all have different types of struggles, its the pain that births life I know retail work drains the soul and monetary rewards are not abundant in comparison to ones effort , it takes lots of patience and long winded spirit to be in that kind of work, you must be a saint to endure customers temperaments , there are few days where you are appreciated while others well lets leave it at that, I have been there, and I know what you are going through, may divine intervention lead you to a better way of work
Truly
Paul

Come Rain or Come Shine

Paul,

Happy May! May the blooming world keep us mindful of how beauty begins.

I always love hearing from you. You are like a Jesus on my dashboard, always giving me cause to smile and walk the line.

I appreciate the soulful manner you use to ease me from the trials by fire.

Winter is a beautiful season and it has really been bittersweet this year. We certainly have experienced the harsh reality of what severe weather can do.

You are a wonderful heart and you never fail to amaze me with your wit and compassion.

I hope you find time to ease into the spirit of knowing you are loved, truly loved.

I just got back from a week in California with my family. It was a beautiful week. I am so grateful for jets!

Thanks ever so much for continuing to be my buddy, come rain or come shine!

Love,

Kathy xo

Fort Lauderdale, Florida

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