The Elements Fire and Air

The Elements Fire and Air

When you are walking through the woods,

where the mighty one's once stood,

Listen to the crackling fire's sound,

that circles you all around.

Listen to all of the sounds in Nature,

and how her rhythm becomes even greater.

Listen to the Air,

and the roaring power of fires flare.

As the air dances across the water,

leaving ripples that move like a performer,

the air flows soft and slow~

and intertwines with fires glow.

As air flows through the branches of a tree,

and entwines with the leaves,

they have completed their dance to air's sound,

now it is time to meld into the ground.

Every element has a special chore,

as does the ocean waves as they touch the shore,

as you sit with a chill from the air

just imagine fires flares.

As the air flows all around,

like the rhythm of the drums sound.

Keep your heart warm by the fires heat,

and enjoy this moment before it fleets.

I have always said that poetry is a way for a writer to express things that often cannot be spoken from the mouth.  Yet, it can be expressed through metaphors. Since everyone speaks on different levels most of  the time, metaphors are often spoken as the universal language. Of course not everyone with agree with this and that is perfectly okay. 

Many people get sad and close down during the colder months.  When they see the bare trees, and all of the leaves on the ground, they see a huge chore that needs to be done.  Raking leaves is hard work no doubt.  I love to rake for several reasons, but mainly because I know the leaves I rake up will soon become wonderful material for your garden.  I love to watch how the leaves meld into the soil and how it makes soil richer. I do not see  autumn as doom and gloom, but instead I see autumn and winter as a time to rest and rejuvenate for preparation for a new beginning.  

Metaphors to me, is very much like the music from Enigma.  They may be singing something but when the words travel through your ears to your spirit~they become something totally different.  Listen and you tell me what you think. 

Between the Worlds

Beyond the views of our mind, there is a place between the worlds, in another dimension.  It is a place where life is completely different, it is a place that is truly pure, fresh and free.  It is there for everyone to experience, unfortunately very few do.  This place between the worlds is a place where there are no restrictions or demands.  The freedom is not like we are use to in this world, it is a pure freedom that does nothing but lifts your higher self to a point where everything in life has been lifted and taken away from you.  Every fractions of your spiritual being is cleansed and filled with a light that is warm, clean and bright.  You meld with every energy that life has to offer.  You are connected but not caged and bound, you are part of something much bigger, you are connected directly to the "Source".

Between the Worlds

(c) 2012 Eva WhiteOak Thomas

The dimension between the worlds,

is encased like a fine pearl.

It is so different and alive,

yet it only takes a second to arrive.

The dimension between the worlds,

is wonderfully warm and never cold.

As you breathe in the freshness of the air,

your senses are wide open, like an animal's lair.

The dimension between the worlds,

is a place your spirit can swirl.

You can see forever, but without sight,

and feel how the stars burn so bright.

The dimension between the worlds,

have paths that twist and twirl.

Listen closely you can hear beyond words,

in the dimension between the worlds.

The dimension between the worlds,

has a legend that has always been told,

everything you feel is without touch,

but yet you realize what it is very much.

The dimension between the worlds,

is a comforting place, yet so old.

If there were no eyes to see,

your senses is what you have to believe.

The dimension between the worlds,

where nature contrasted and always bold,

you are able to see the true life,

that emerges straight from the source.

I see you standing there

I was at the doctors office with my mother and out of nowhere, I had sentences that kept echoing in  my mind.  So I pulled out my writing book and began writing.  For a little while I did not even  notice I was in a waiting room, it was like I had gotten lost in this poem.  

If you are a writer, you most likely understand what I mean by I am never without something to write on and pens. There are a few material things I cannot be without in my life: camera, writing tablets, pens, candles and matches.  If I had to say I am addicted or obsessed with something it would be those items. (Oh and Lip Balms!! Yes, a little off topic there, but still the truth).

I took the picture posted above one day a friend and I went to the botanical gardens.  I love to photograph trees and branches especially if they are crooked. I do this because I find them so unique and beautiful.  They have a lot of character and grace.  Of course I have never seen a tree I did not think was beautiful.  Yes, I even love the trees that are coming to the end of their life journey and are just standing there. If you look closely at the bare trees, you will often see hawks sitting in them; which makes the scene even more beautiful!

I see you Standing There

(c) 2012 Eva WhiteOak Thomas

As I see you standing tall,

especially during the Fall,

I see you with such beauty and grace,

which confirms I am in the right place.

Visions of your wisdom flows,

throughout your colored leaves as they glow,

they show signs of their journey,

throughout their life, which seems like eternity.

Your leaves, your branches and your bark,

places images upon my heart,

I am truly blessed each day,

to be able to watch you sway.

As you move to natures song,

slow soft movements, yet so strong.

I admire the gifts you freely give,

and how easily you can forgive.

If only people could truly hear,

the words you speak beyond our ears.

It is sad the messages you send our way,

are often missed every day.

I see you standing there tall and proud,

as if you are reaching for the clouds.

I honor you standing there and everything you do,

I know there would be no life without you.

The next time you pass by a tree, stop and feel,

how the energy flows because it is so real.

They never ask for anything in return,

Just for us to listen, so we can all learn.

If you ever need a friend,

all you have to do is find a tree to befriend,

it will shower you with unconditional love,

and teach you so much from above.

Poetry from the Heart-Part 5

I cannot speak for all women, only for myself.  I have noticed in my own life as I transcended to a different section of the trinity, I began to see life differently.  The changes I seen were not a couple of things here and there, but for me it was a full transition.  Often the changes happened so fast that it felt like a whirlwind running at high speed.  We learn a whole new way-and our path becomes a different trail.  But the more you can just flow with these experiences, the more you will come to realize, that is all part of our spiritual growth.  The good, the bad, the ugly, all of it is part of learning new ways.

Sweet Scents

(c) 1996 Eva WhiteOak Thomas

Spiral Dancers, dancing on a golden thread,

Visions and thoughts are filling my head.

Sweet Scents of what was once secure,

leaves my emotions very unsure.

Spiral Dancers, from here and there,

have set me free, floating on air.

Sweet Scents of what was once pure,

leaves me empty and very bored.

Spiral Dancers, of my most inner fear,

have began to bring out yesterdays tears.

Sweet Scents of something once filled with power,

leaves me feeling like a broken flower.

Spiral Dancers, that once danced in faith,

Now runs away to totally escape.

Sweet Scents of what was once soft,

leaves my spirit cold and aloof.

Spiral Dancers, when did I lose sight,

within the darkness of my own fright.

Sweet Scents of yet to come,

leave me feeling very numb.

Spiral Dancers, I no longer feel your dance,

And the song that brought light into my broken trance.

Sweet Scents of a strength, I once held

leaves my ears ringing with echo's of bells.

Spiral Dancers, will this pain ease,

From whispers of a silent pleads?

Sweet Scents of my weakness that's no longer strong,

leaves me with questions like where do I belong. 

From a Mist

(c) 1998 Eva WhiteOak Thomas

It appears you have stepped out from a mist,

Your darkness wrapped around you in a tight fit.

The paleness of your skin reflects in the moon,

Yet your shadow self continues to bloom.

You shield many thing but your true essence cannot hide. 

 I sense you, feel you and can hear your cries.

I understand unspoken words that cannot escape your lips,

And the darkness that comforts you as you so wish.

It appears you have stepped out from a mist,

Lingering about in a crowded abyss.

Your mysterious aura, your mysterious feel,

Can sensed by those from a familiar wheel.

It can be seen how close you hold the darkness around you,

and the  comfort you feel within the darkness, is this not true?

Many things are hidden with the shadow self, that feels right,

Especially those that linger at night.

It appears you have stepped out from a mist,

Not alone, but yet alone as you so wish.

The darkness of your eyes and the paleness of your skin,

Is a trait that you do have other kin.

The fire that runs through your soul,

Reminds me of tales that I was once told.

The rapture runs deep within your essence,

I know it is you, in its purest quintessence. 

Poetry

Often when we write, we pull words from deep within our core. We try to find the words that fit that particular emotion, mind thought or situation. There are many times when we share our poetry or poems and they will not be understood. It wasn't until I joined Squidoo that I started to share my art and my writing including my poems the way I do today, isn't life mysterious and beautiful. http://amplify.com/u/a16p2y

Page of Art

Over the weekend I was doing some clean up at Squidoo.  When you have over 200 pages that you need to keep up with and refresh and so on, it becomes a task.  But while I was doing this it dawned on me that I had written over 20 pages of art related pages so I decided to combine them all into one page.    

Page of Art is considered a Lensography at Squidoo.  They are one of my favorite kinds of pages to create because I like the organization of them.  I always leave my guestbooks open so all of my visitors can leave a comment if they want too.  If you get a chance stop by and take a look.  

 

Until Next Time,

Have a beautiful day

 

Beauty seen through a lens of a camera