the owl and me

 

The owl gave me a book

I was excited to open it

Is it a book of wisdom?

So I can follow it, a river

ever flowing, a bird knowing

its way home

But when I read it, what came

To me is a cacophony of sad poems

The melancholy of death songs

The owl looks at me

His bulging eyes filled with questions

His huge body carved by half-moon

Unmoved by my restless hands

Then he points to me a pen

Nudging me to write my words

Listen to my tides & heartbeat

Grow my own feet & feathered wings

Map and unmap my journey

I want to fly to the sky, I say 

The owl is still, waiting for me

I scratch the pages with ink

I scour the edges with electric

moods and soulful dances

A flow of energy curls within, crisp as rain

I lose myself in the salt of verses

and valley of melodies and refrains

I forget where I am

Standing on a tree of life 

Singing to the wind - my song

Artist:    Catrin Welz-Stein

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - PoeticsdVerse Poets Pub - Poetics hosted by Lillian Hallberg.   Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.   

flights of fancy

imagine this  - your body lifting fancy free

to fields, as if you are seeder of words 

to sky, as if you are gatherer of cottonweeds

to sea, as if you are fisher of night stars

to fields, as if you are seeder of words

knuckled & knotted, you lay them on canvas

wielding ink & pen, you blade them to exotic fruits

to sky, as if you are gatherer of cottonweeds

tying a bouqet of wildflowers & sunflowers

you find your footing, right here, drawing ships

to sea, as if you are fisher of night stars

floating in the primal scream of your longing, you

fly on stilettos!  you bead starlight all the way to the moon!

                                                              by Catrin Welz-Stein

   

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Trimeric form which was invented by Dr. Charles Stone.   Please join us when the pub door opens at 3pm EST.

Keeper of secrets

 

the days blur in sulfur  

time is raging sky of crimson & smoke

and come nights

your eyes are teacups of insomnia 

the intensity of your secrets eat you

your dreadful premonitions wither you

as if all your life events

are open book somersaulting in street corner

bring the watcher

he is a guardian riding on swallow's wings

he hands over the

key of the moon to

you

& you 

are hallowed in silence, 

made of candlelight

& cosmic heartbeats

catching feverish dream of cathedrals afloat in the universe

Credit to Catrin Welz-Stein

Posted for dVerse Poetics:   Let Your Words Be Your Paintbrush, hosted by Lillian.  We are writing about the work of artist C. Welz-Stein.  Join us when the pub door opens at 3pm.  Thank you.

The awakening

a voice inside your head
                   
                  be still 

you dab
     clouds of cotton on your       spindled finger
you sleep
     on nest of tangled ferns        & castle of sorrows
you dream
     of that magical kiss under     ocean of stars

i tell you the voice inside my head

rest if you must, if you are tired

                   but wake up

remove the flax & flex
   your wobbling legs, stand-

be the 
            swallow, 
that sways to the flutes of the wind          & wings away-
be the 
            moon, offering

its whole silver light,
even under claws of stormy sky-

and be that 
                   woman
that dances with windy tresses                 & raises a glass

of margarita and says,
Listen! 

I have one heck of a story to tell!   

Sleeping Beauty's Dream by CATRIN WELZ-STEIN

       

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight.  The pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Come and link up and read our poems.   I have written to last week's prompt by Lillian:  Inspired by Art.