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Excerpt for I Move The Clock Of Time by , available in its entirety at Smashwords


Title Page


Writings by Sha’Ra On WindWalker

(in collaboration with Sha'Tara EarthStar)


Copyright (©) 2018 Cocoons to Butterflies Publishing


Published by: Cocoons to Butterflies Publishing

Chilliwack, B.C. Canada


Cover picture: Maxime Perron Caissy


Picture found on FreeImages.com


Space Picture: ESA/Hubble


I hope you enjoy these writings. Feedback is welcome.

Contents

Title Page

Foreword

A Delightful Vision

A Song To Love

Life Within Gaia

Bittersweet

Essence Of Woman

Dream To Dream

Strange Corners

Autumn Sunset

I Move The Clock Of Time

Love Letters In The Sand

Goddess Of Paradise

Daisy

My Lover

Night Fall

On Marriage (And Other Foolish Things)

Geese, Marsha And I

Gentle Waves

Elysian Fields

Raging River

You Are Loved!

Sparrow Song



Foreword


These books contain a form of free verse poetry, opinions based on observation, and some humour and imagination, engaging the heart as well as the mind. A critical look at many current issues intriguing and plaguing man. Spirituality, interaction with nature and environment, social changes, dwindling resources. Well worn issues now, indeed. But the poetry and other works in these books gives this subject a different perspective. I daresay that here we can find a "higher" vantage point from which to look at ourselves within the cosmos.


Who knows but some of the ideas in the books may get you inspired to do that thing you always wanted to do, even if this comes in a very small way, to make your corner of this world a better place to be in. Who knows but you may realize your little corner is a really nice place to be in after all.


It's all about life, if at times expressing life "outside the box" as the saying goes.

A Delightful Vision


She walks an alpine meadow,

dressed in wild flowers;

exuding the fragrance

of mountain soil

blown gently by a southern breeze.


She wears the sun in her hair,

painting stones in gold;

she floats on butterfly wings,

dancing amongst

glowing anemones.


I stand still,

full of wonder and awe

as she approaches:

she does not look at me,

but smiles an impish smile

as her gown of illusion

slips off her shoulders

and floats freely in the wind...


There she stands

in her full glory:

What shall it be?

I feel the pull of her passion,

yet unsure am I

whether to approach, to touch?

Should I... touch her

or will this vision too, vanish

as swiftly as little white clouds

forming over a mountain side?

A Song To Love


To write a song

to love

is difficult

without the notes

without the tools

of songwriters


Yet a song

I have to write

if I'm to write

about my love

for you Marcia

my lover my friend

the rose resting upon my soul

by day by night

you please and you delight


You pleased me on

our very first night

and pleased me since

but to speak of love

is another matter


your love has been

unfaltering and true

a beacon of light

in a stormy sea

you've been steadfast

and sincere

you showed no sign of fear


you took the calm

and took the storms

and came back

to love again


I learned from you

the things of life

that before eluded me


I learned to give and take

and allow for mistakes


I learned to try

to understand

the other points of view

(I'm still learning)


Your love has been

a light to me

your world,

a joy to me

your beauty,

a balm to the eyes

your body

a garden of enchantments

of pleasures

beyond the scope

of mere words:


If ever I were to find

that life ends at death

no paradise to gain


I could say

"So be it"

I've already tasted

heaven in your arms

Marcia

I wanted you to know.

Life Within Gaia


You: the steady heartbeat of a spreading universe

overshadowing my fevered mind, my tortured will;

you: sometimes figment of my self-filled thoughts

memory of pasts crushed by time, unknown, undone:

Why do you hide from the one who loves you, needs you?


Is this what you call "love", this middle of nowhere,

which is neither now, nor then, nor perhaps ever to be?

Is there a hereafter to this madness, this emptiness

this thumping, beating wonder?-wonder of throbbing life:

are you in this blinding storm... or the storm itself?


Dreams, all dreams which flit by like grey sparrows,

minute shadows over wind-swept dunes of bleak winter days:

I can't live on dreams nor survive in fantasies

while the world spins by, asking the same question

I cannot answer?-I fear to answer! Who will answer?


Will you? Or will you hide still, inside a thought,

a thought unshared, unheard, by either I or them;

a thought left behind in our long forgotten human past,

no longer real, no longer acceptable or possible,

lost... forever in the passing mists of changes?


Gaia! Hear my cry in the silence, in the still winds:

Listen to me! I am alone, poised, a hungry falcon

on the edge of a cliff floating in white clouds,

an eternal emptiness, a nothingness lost in time:

seeing nothing, only emptiness, a grinning gargoyle.


My mind, filled with swirling winds, grinding sands,

whipping about in phantasms of unknown knowledge,

fitted like an arrow to the drawn bow: searching, blind,

no target to fly at or aim for, only the milky substance

of your thoughts flowing through bare consciousness.


Lost, lost in times past and future, lost and alone

following you, my will 'o the wisp, my beautiful ghost

of nights spent flying through space, looking at life

considering the movements of the universe in your eyes,

the eyes of the frightened fawn, the panting doe:


The eyes which banish sleep and awaken life, Gaia?-

get me through this storm-swept pass above rising mountains

where human life meets spirit, where they separate and join,

where one dies, the other springs to life, eternal: Gaia!

Help me, one more time, to understand, to overcome death.

Bittersweet


I remember how you tried to teach me

that love is not just physical joy

but a spiritual flow of energy;

that when love is alive and free

it flows into every living thing

integrating pain and ecstasy

together as one creative symphony.


Like our love, leaves change colour

even as I meditate on your teaching,

crimson and amber from Summer's green,

and still my heart bursts in memory

of the love we found hidden in a pool

and scattered as dandelion seeds,

spendthrifts in Summer's winds!


How the bittersweet lingers everywhere

as Autumn's art lesson nears its end,

and you fade away to pure consciousness,

to inhabit another space, unseen,

though not far from where I stand.


Together we stare at the setting sun

and touching hands we hear it sizzle,

quenched from view by the open sea.

Essence Of Woman


Clouds form and re-form

up there, playing in the afternoon sky,

The prairie grass rustles in the breeze

and in my arms

a beautiful woman lies sleeping.

Am I dreaming? Maybe I wish I were

but here she is, nevertheless;

this woman free enough

to express a side of human love

I had never fully experienced.


The sun sinks quickly, too quickly,

behind the western hills;

a cold gust of wind touches my skin

I shiver: she awakens, surprised

then knowing.

We dress quickly. The day is over.

Perhaps, I think,

I shall meet with her again.

Perhaps.


But she is a free being:

to live in hope of another afternoon

with this same one;

would that not seem a touch of madness?

Yet, am I not now bewitched forever?

Dream To Dream


Flowers of yellow,

blue and violet,

open, brilliant and unashamed

to the morning sun:

my hands

roam the body of the primitive woman,

gently caress her tanned skin,

bodies tingling

in anticipation of bliss:

...soft...

is a crude word

for nothing can describe

this touch: love?


In the afternoon's warmth

we swim,

the mermaid and I: she laughs

as I chase her around the pool...

we are as one with our world,

tuned to the sacred Rhythm

we love: we make love: we love again!


The evening's blush

contemplates our crackling, sparking fire

compliment of the tree spirits--

spent, sated, sinful and happy,

we gently drift from day-dream

to the other side of life,

dreaming yet another dream,

returning again with the sun

playing out our love

illusion to reality--and back again!

Strange Corners


The room: a dark void;

I look outside and stare:

a broken street lamp

stands there alone in the dark;

its hanging head no longer sees

the shadowy night;

nor can it dissipate the darkness.


The night's deepening gloom,

The room's emptiness,

remind me that trouble unheeded

issues forth quickly

from strange corners.


My heart was never trained

in showing much affection:

now memories of you

slowly drown in my tears:

I naturally assumed you knew

I really did love you!


"I met a soul longing for love

along a lonely stretch of road

and when I turned back and stared

it was I who was walking there."

Autumn Sunset


I thought it fated

I should walk alone

along endless sandy shores

by the open sea...

You had always been there,

distant, unapproachable:

a silhouette, a dream,

a yearning for love,

a love I denied.

How could anyone believe

in one such as you?

You went away.

Many a Summer sun set,

your shadow no longer cast upon the shore:

years passed...

and Autumn came to me.


One day you reappeared,

O lonely vision,

O woman of the sea!

You came and took my hand,

gently, and we shared a day,

our souls as one.

I spun in the vortex of your love,

I drifted silently into other realities;


From a simple shared vision

in an Autumn sunset

we created a new world

outside the vagaries of time:

I thank you!

I Move The Clock Of Time


A deep, quiet forest stunned by diversity;

an alpine meadow dancing in paintbrushes;

eagles soaring in stark blue skies of Summer;

above jagged black peaks piercing fog;

a walk along a thundering shore in December;

or skipping gentle waves kissing sand in Spring:

gulls cry in stereo unseen in shimmering waves

as the sun beats down upon sand dunes...

Clouds roll ominously across the sky

and thunder rumbles far away in the hills

and I yearn to understand what it all means

for if ever I do, that shall define who I am -

forever - The seasons pass, chase each other

and each one puts its impression on my face.


Snow drifts over an icy gray street;

fallen leaves dance on the Autumn wind;

a morning glory closes itself to the sun:

a sunflower turns slowly in my mind...


I move the clock of time backward

remembering the feeling you gave me

the very first time I looked into your eyes:

their blue light rivaling both sky and sea

and how easy it was to swim in them!

Such love I felt for you then;

such love I may have shown you

had you chosen to stay the hand of destiny.

The Universe called you back

and my dream ended as suddenly

as it started.


And yet... how much I love you still!

I shall chase after you

when this life releases me in turn:

I swear I shall find you again.

Love Letters In The Sand


Just as the tide

silently drowned

your love letters in the sand,

so did a little time

erase from your mind

memories of a happier time.


Seems you forgot

my promise to love you

always and forever;

seems you forgot

your promise to keep

your heart for me:

you forgot...


Is it because

only this windswept,

cold, rainy, lonely beach

stretching its endless miles

remains, a silent witness

where once we used to walk,

where once you wrote

love letters in the sand?

Goddess Of Paradise


I had seen her dance

within the light of the rising sun,

along a golden faraway shore.

She had stood, radiant and blissful

at the edge of my greatest visions

which I now shared with myself only

while walking the city streets.


In the shadowy pre-dawn world

I was sadly returning home,

tired and hungry and burdened

from exposure to night vision pain.

Through twisting, twisted streets I wandered,

sharing a fear-filled sense of security

among strangers in unequal bondage...


On impulse, I handed my money to a beggar:

was it compassion,

or an effort to ease my heaviness?

A bit of both it seems, but in that moment

the sun pierced the space

between two great towers

and touched my back as a gentle burning:

I turned in wonder

and I saw her there: she of the golden shores,

as beautiful, as radiant as ever I'd seen

in my visions of paradise.


She had been waiting, watching, hoping

some day I'd give her cause to reach for me:

a touch of unconditional love towards another.

She smiled as she touched my hand.


I knew she would go when the sun set,

but she reminded me of tomorrow,

of endless dazzling days in her havens of love,

where my visions of her, my love for all

would bring forth eternal bliss for those

who entered there with us, unafraid and free.

Daisy


I met her

bearing the warmth and fragrances

of Summer in paradise.

Beneath her angel wings

life burst forth

from this once-cold shore;

her eyes spoke to me of love,

a love I had never felt

a love with no expectations,

no boundaries; wild and free,

enough to cover the earth.


Her hands touched my body,

like no woman ever had,

arousing hunger and excitement.

My passion, my sexuality,

so long dormant

she fanned into a blaze

and the pounding of my heart told me

she had forever changed

my perspective on sex,

on love,

on life...


Today I stand on this same shore

where we met in the Summer.

The sea tosses wildly, announcing

the changing season:

another woman leans on my arm,

another Goddess,

and she too holds

the fragrance of love.

My Lover

When the first day was dared; when time began to count,

Life

in all his power and beauty

embodied in a dream,

clothed in the black shimmering

of still unseen space...

Life

smiled at me, winked and said: I dare you girl -

extending his hand and I smiled back shrugging,

stretching myself on his altar:

he grabbed my arm then, this golden god; this eternal love

and swept me into the chaos, the realms of the unmade.

Together we sang and danced new realities,

spun galaxies, fired new suns and painted swirling nebulae.

It wasn't easy, certainly not always fun,

walking through the voids, running, chasing, tumbling

along ways never before encountered,

his pace always changing, his moods like the weather.

Tired, haggard, hungry, often lost, I cursed him.

I hated him when he drove me;

when time awareness inexorably

crushed me into shapes of un-comfort,

so painful it was I wished I hadn't been

and he offered no comfort to me.

Yet this I do know:

I am his and he remains my lover in every way

and though I've travelled far and wide;

slept with countless strangers along the way

to stay warm, to eat, to survive and play the game

I have never been unfaithful to him:

this Life -- this love -- this one

who so much resembles me.

Night Fall


Evening has drawn to a close;

darkness prepares to bar the door

against the light

when, with one last challenge

over the horizon,

the clouds tear apart

and for one brief moment

red flares illuminate the sky.

The West bursts into flames

and in the East

the mountains burn crimson-

their eternal snows

reflecting the fiery glow

from this dying day.

But inevitably the challenge

was for naught.

All is darkness now.

On Marriage (And Other Foolish Things)


I feel impelled to speak upon marriage

Oh, one more time! I am thinking frustration here,

the worst kind: unfulfilled sexual needs:

in a partnered male/female relationship

should we really expect the female

to be equipped to satisfy every desire, every need

of her life-long male companion?


Should we expect the male to be satisfied

within the narrow confines of her one and only world?

Should we take marriage for granted

and allow ourselves to be drawn in its bounds

should I say, bonds?

Does marriage really equate love?

Oh, please!


I look upon the world of Wo and Man

can't help to see the obvious: (that's my thing after all).

Marriage is falling into disrepute, and no wonder!

For the man and the woman are discovering

that outside their mutually imposed celibacy

are other people, full of life and desire

who also seek to escape their private jail cells

or private hells.


Let's not advocate the destruction of marriage:

this time-worn institution serves some purpose after all!

Think of the children in a divorce: Oh, so much pain.

No! Change the rules; remove childish expectations;

go beyond impossible requirements of sexual fidelity:

how ridiculous that is!


Keep your marriages and necessary appurtenances:

Kids and cars, houses and boats, RRSP's and pensions:

isn't that what it's really all about?

Keep the friendship and the business going,

but for whomever's sake: enjoy your sexuality:

Stop bashing each other with petty jealousies.

Before you get hitched: grow up! And...

if you're already hitched - you can still grow up.

Stop pretending marriage is only about love.

Geese, Marsha And I

In slanting rays, the trees

cast elongated shadows on the sand

of a sloping river's shore:

from far away they look like fishermen

standing by the water's edge, waiting.

As the sun dries a million tiny grains

upon that dampened shore,

each loses its attraction to its neighbours

and freed to journey once again,

borne by a wintry, easterly gale,

in swirling swarms flies merrily

over the flowing waters

to settle on a small island

strewn with gravel and see-through shrubs.

There, with its new friends

it settles in the winter's sun

to build a new dune

where geese, Marsha and I

will sun ourselves in summer's warmth,

occasionally dipping sun-sated skin

in surrounding flowing streams

over bars of washed gravel:

I think, in retrospect

that is how the Creators intend it

when they made the sand,

the geese, Marsha and I.

Gentle Waves


Gentle waves caress

shores of endless sand:

I stand watching

your fading foot prints

being drifted out to sea,

and with deep emotion

I know your feelings

told you there's new horizons

dawning and calling you forth:

and I have no right

to make you stay.

Though my heart is empty now

and my tears flow

like a river,

and I long for you so,

I set you free...

A silent loneliness remains

within the waves

and in the wind,

and though I cinch my coat

tight against my body

I cannot keep out the cold.


Now the spirit speaks:

“See how much easier it is

to become attached

than to detach?

Wiser it is to avoid the attachment

than to try to break it later!”

Elysian Fields


Yesterday

I saw her dance with abandon

among dappled foliage,

spreading a mystical love,

the fragrance of spring

to a quiet, lonely place.


She entered my beingness,

touched me with tenderness,

filled me with happiness,

sated my hunger for love.


Those became the times

we discovered crazy love:

In our Elysian Fields,

safely hidden

from a world of prying eyes

we hid and we played;

we laughed... and we slept...


Relentlessly came the changes;

I woke up cold one morning,

felt the lonely winds of autumn.

Now winter winds moan

as I sit to ponder beside crackling embers

while leaves and frozen snow

drift upon their wintry grave.


Will I join them, or remain;

find the courage to rekindle,

to re-discover,

those Elysian Fields

with their limited joy,

couched in so much sorrow?


"I once knew a place of solitude

where birds sang to the rising sun

and the world turned serenely."

Raging River


Now I realize this, that

love can be a great river

and what such a river like?

A river like this river of feelings,

overpowering, destructive.

In a moment flooding banks and dykes

to sweep every obstacle away

in its seething madness.


Some love can be like that

mighty, unpredictable, jealous

and dangerous...

and so you were to me for a season:

sweeping much debris from my life,

but also leaving gaping wounds

in relationships and friendships

lost to me forever.


I must leave this madness,

not look back, not return,

or surely I shall lose myself, die

I need time. To heal; time...

to transform this emotional fantasy

into some semblance of reality

if possible. Don't forget

the blue coat.

You Are Loved!


Someone says "You are loved"

And what does that really mean?

Sounds like a threat to me.


If someone loves me

it can only mean they are attached to me;

they can claim a part of me as theirs

by virtue of their love for me

and not much I can do about it,

it would seem.


Being loved means a lot of things:

It means to be owned; controlled; boxed in;

and if you are to hold to that love;

if you get used to it, or comfortable with it

you must also learn to live

by someone else's expectations -

and dance to another's music.


It means look over your shoulder

when leaning on the neighbor's fence

or the sky could literally fall in!


It means you'll do what she wants

or move when he expects you to

if you don't want all hell to break loose!


For it is a truism the price of love

is giving up your freedom for another's

for it was the Old God

the temperamental, tempestuous, testy

Testament God

who made it abundantly clear that love is jealous;

to love means to own; to expect; to punish

when the object of one's affection

doesn't go the love's intended way.


But then,

who doesn't already know this?

Sparrow Song


A song sparrow on a near-by branch,

instantly fills my heart with joy

with her free, full-throated song.

The bird flies from branch to branch

as if indicating I should follow along;

as if to show me something special.


In hesitant steps I follow the notes

wondering what I could possibly find:

something really beautiful?

Something really meaningful?

I come upon an open field,

my expectations dashed,

as I look over a barren terrain.


Why has it lead me to this empty place?

and a gust of wind whispers:

"Don't look at what you see,

look at what you want to see!"


I close my eyes and for a moment

I see a scattering of mountain hemlock,

of alpine fir and abundant wild flowers;

butterflies and bees sharing pollen;

a gurgling crystal stream over polished stones;

an eagle flying in a transparent sky:

when I open my eyes

the Spring maiden takes my hand

and she leads me on beyond the Earth...

beyond her sparrow song...




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