My soul prays not for victory;
I beg open and unashamed
for the healing of souls,
making no need for war!
A scream of agony sears as
it rips though the soul.
Another echoes back from the
opposite side of the world.
Their mother's heart rips, bleeds;
Tears spill the blood of their soul.
Their beloved children gone....
No longer to be held to their breast
Remembered....
The smell of their hair and skin
wafting upward as the milk of
life is exchanged!
The first smile...the one that lights
the world and changes night to day
The tiny fingers wrapping around fingers,
tethering to the heart. A bond never to be
broken even in death.
So many dreams..now never to be fulfilled
Understood....
Real human issues...both sides.
Desperate needs, anger, mistrust,prejudice
Greed of nations, egocentric leaders,
using the life blood of our sons and
daughters to rip this bountiful world
of ours apart for their own desires
NEGOTIATE FROM OUR HEARTS....
We are ones who know the REAL price to be paid
It is within the feelings of our hearts a solution can be found!
Please, just try....for the children..
Mothers of the world..
Cecelia 2009
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Come Hold Me Close
When the heart is heavy, the feet are slow.
Come hold me, hold me close,
Tell me that you love me, but mean it though.
Tell me of the joy of us in the here and now.
Come hold me close, make me believe. I don't know how.
Love me for who I am, can you see good in me?
Can you rejoice in the idiosyncrasies?
Body and mind ache from the wanting of your touch,
I lie wide awake thinking... this is all too much.
Close my eyes, dreaming of what I dare not believe,
Knowing how to give, not knowing how to receive.
Can you make love to me with your heart, not with lust?
Melt into my soul and body, teach me to trust?
Whisper softly in my ear, locked in loves embrace,
Cast all my doubts aside, the long ago erase.
Lift me up, be my eagle, wings bestow
Come hold me, hold me close,
Tell me that you love me, but mean it though.
Cecelia
Come hold me, hold me close,
Tell me that you love me, but mean it though.
Tell me of the joy of us in the here and now.
Come hold me close, make me believe. I don't know how.
Love me for who I am, can you see good in me?
Can you rejoice in the idiosyncrasies?
Body and mind ache from the wanting of your touch,
I lie wide awake thinking... this is all too much.
Close my eyes, dreaming of what I dare not believe,
Knowing how to give, not knowing how to receive.
Can you make love to me with your heart, not with lust?
Melt into my soul and body, teach me to trust?
Whisper softly in my ear, locked in loves embrace,
Cast all my doubts aside, the long ago erase.
Lift me up, be my eagle, wings bestow
Come hold me, hold me close,
Tell me that you love me, but mean it though.
Cecelia
From the Deck
Destiny is pondered as the sun
melts into the colors of life.
A painting spread across rippling
water mirrors joy and strife.
The breeze is warm and soft, yet
A chill runs down my spine.
In the distance a bell tolls;
I wonder if it could be mine.
Who is in control of this time or date?
Is it ME or IT that decides my fate?
Cecelia
melts into the colors of life.
A painting spread across rippling
water mirrors joy and strife.
The breeze is warm and soft, yet
A chill runs down my spine.
In the distance a bell tolls;
I wonder if it could be mine.
Who is in control of this time or date?
Is it ME or IT that decides my fate?
Cecelia
How Can I Tell You.....
In the country meadow now by choice,
Unable to resist that purest voice,
The one that sings of a spirit set free,
Who beckons and calls, “come to me”.
How can I give your mind wings to fly into the breeze,
And to feel the sun and rain that brought me to my knees?
To my knees in reverence at the sounds , tastes and smells,
And to the place where hearts rejoice and my spirit dwells.
No city sounds….
In this place there is only the symphony of creation,
Invisible movement brushing in sensuous flirtation.
Time passes quietly; minutes become blissful calming hours,
Just watching a swaying dance between grass and flowers.
No city tastes….
In this place there are no pizzas or burgers and fries,
Only grassy blades and flower stems beneath blue skies.
There is no hunger as contentment fills the soul.
It’s fills as the newness of first love taken for a stroll.
No city smells….
In this place there is the smell of heaven’s sweet perfume,
The scent of fresh cut flowers in your mother’s sitting room.
Wafting through the air, pungent odors tantalize and tease.
It’s Mother Earth’s aroma therapy and guaranteed to please.
I learn more each and every day
Just no way to tell or words to say…
…for…
How can I tell you how it feels to be
Held in the palm of all eternity?
Cecelia 2009
Unable to resist that purest voice,
The one that sings of a spirit set free,
Who beckons and calls, “come to me”.
How can I give your mind wings to fly into the breeze,
And to feel the sun and rain that brought me to my knees?
To my knees in reverence at the sounds , tastes and smells,
And to the place where hearts rejoice and my spirit dwells.
No city sounds….
In this place there is only the symphony of creation,
Invisible movement brushing in sensuous flirtation.
Time passes quietly; minutes become blissful calming hours,
Just watching a swaying dance between grass and flowers.
No city tastes….
In this place there are no pizzas or burgers and fries,
Only grassy blades and flower stems beneath blue skies.
There is no hunger as contentment fills the soul.
It’s fills as the newness of first love taken for a stroll.
No city smells….
In this place there is the smell of heaven’s sweet perfume,
The scent of fresh cut flowers in your mother’s sitting room.
Wafting through the air, pungent odors tantalize and tease.
It’s Mother Earth’s aroma therapy and guaranteed to please.
I learn more each and every day
Just no way to tell or words to say…
…for…
How can I tell you how it feels to be
Held in the palm of all eternity?
Cecelia 2009
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Party Time!!
Soon it will be the 4th of July The lake will be crowded with those seeking rest from their daily grind of work and home.
They will party..drink, play music so loud the trees and water vibrate. They will camp out, cook out, leave their trash behind. They will fly boats with skiers in tow. There will be children, laughing and swimming, just having a good time as they should. There will be no thought given or reverence for the meaning of this holiday.
Soon the fireworks will start. From dusk until two or three am every night the sky will light, the fire crackers will pop, the rockets will whistle and burst sending glowing burning embers across a blackened sky. They will cheer and whistle, ravenous for more and more, having not a clue or interest in what they represent.
We will be behind closed doors and windows waiting for this to pass. Every year it is tough, some tougher than others. War leaves scars, deep scars, that never go away. Physical ones will heal. The others, buried deep are inoperable.
You learn to live with them and for the most part it works..Until.....
My husband built radio relays in Viet Nam in 1968/69. For 18 months, he did his job like so many of our brave servicemen. They were bombarded with incoming that lit the sky and whistled past their ears, if they were lucky. They dealt with the feelings when they lost their comrades or so they thought... They dealt with the feelings when the sky lit up and they dove for cover or so they thought... Every year it comes back and we are prisoners in our home dealing with the incoming and overwhelming need to seek cover. I refer you to my poem Space
Once our children thought it was hilarious because daddy dove to the ground when a car backfired. We took this opportunity to sit them down and explain why this happened. They learned because of men and women like their dad, they had the opportunity to live in a safer world. They have gone on to serve their country... and their children are now serving..one in Afghanistan, just barely 20, another still training..just 17 years old.
It's time we take a look at the invisible wounds they bring home, what they endure for the rest of their lives...and know that you don't have to duck and cover because they did that for you.....Cecelia
This is for all the troops, from all countries that serve to make this world a better place for us to live.
They will party..drink, play music so loud the trees and water vibrate. They will camp out, cook out, leave their trash behind. They will fly boats with skiers in tow. There will be children, laughing and swimming, just having a good time as they should. There will be no thought given or reverence for the meaning of this holiday.
Soon the fireworks will start. From dusk until two or three am every night the sky will light, the fire crackers will pop, the rockets will whistle and burst sending glowing burning embers across a blackened sky. They will cheer and whistle, ravenous for more and more, having not a clue or interest in what they represent.
We will be behind closed doors and windows waiting for this to pass. Every year it is tough, some tougher than others. War leaves scars, deep scars, that never go away. Physical ones will heal. The others, buried deep are inoperable.
You learn to live with them and for the most part it works..Until.....
My husband built radio relays in Viet Nam in 1968/69. For 18 months, he did his job like so many of our brave servicemen. They were bombarded with incoming that lit the sky and whistled past their ears, if they were lucky. They dealt with the feelings when they lost their comrades or so they thought... They dealt with the feelings when the sky lit up and they dove for cover or so they thought... Every year it comes back and we are prisoners in our home dealing with the incoming and overwhelming need to seek cover. I refer you to my poem Space
Once our children thought it was hilarious because daddy dove to the ground when a car backfired. We took this opportunity to sit them down and explain why this happened. They learned because of men and women like their dad, they had the opportunity to live in a safer world. They have gone on to serve their country... and their children are now serving..one in Afghanistan, just barely 20, another still training..just 17 years old.
It's time we take a look at the invisible wounds they bring home, what they endure for the rest of their lives...and know that you don't have to duck and cover because they did that for you.....Cecelia
This is for all the troops, from all countries that serve to make this world a better place for us to live.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Gentle Grace
With quiet beauty
and gentle grace,
you kissed my hands,
and washed my face.
You took the time
to brush my tears,
holding me close,
calming my fears.
You were the rock
on which I stood ,
Made me believe
I really could.
All that I am
and hope to be
Came from the love
you gave to me!
Cecelia
and gentle grace,
you kissed my hands,
and washed my face.
You took the time
to brush my tears,
holding me close,
calming my fears.
You were the rock
on which I stood ,
Made me believe
I really could.
All that I am
and hope to be
Came from the love
you gave to me!
Cecelia
Monday, April 20, 2009
This Wonderous Place!
This Wondrous Place
New growth sprouts shiny and bright green.
Last years fallen leaves now nourish the
Earth, supporting the never ending cycle.
...life, then death, then life again...
Yesterday I walked with Mother Earth and
Father Sun. As they shared their secrets
And treasures, I felt, as never before,
The warmth of oneness with everything around.
I tasted the alpha and omega of the sweet
Forever soil. I smelled pungent odors from
Wild flowers and those pesky little weeds.
Begging forgiveness, I dug them from my bed.
What a wondrous place, this world of ours!
Father Sun's dawning light opens the curtain.
At dusk he gives up his full glory as his
Melting rays of color bow to a darkening sky.
The moon and stars mellow a blackened night
Mother Earth shares bountiful harvests, food
For our bodies and beauty for our souls. Then
When our time has passed as the fallen leaves,
She covers us, once more to begin the cycle.
…....life, then death, then life again......
New growth sprouts shiny and bright green.
Last years fallen leaves now nourish the
Earth, supporting the never ending cycle.
...life, then death, then life again...
Yesterday I walked with Mother Earth and
Father Sun. As they shared their secrets
And treasures, I felt, as never before,
The warmth of oneness with everything around.
I tasted the alpha and omega of the sweet
Forever soil. I smelled pungent odors from
Wild flowers and those pesky little weeds.
Begging forgiveness, I dug them from my bed.
What a wondrous place, this world of ours!
Father Sun's dawning light opens the curtain.
At dusk he gives up his full glory as his
Melting rays of color bow to a darkening sky.
The moon and stars mellow a blackened night
Mother Earth shares bountiful harvests, food
For our bodies and beauty for our souls. Then
When our time has passed as the fallen leaves,
She covers us, once more to begin the cycle.
…....life, then death, then life again......
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Forever Friends
What began in dawning spring, now is winter's night.
Come walk a ways with me on my journey to the light.
Take my hand; we'll just walk and talk a while.
We'll be forever friends, go that extra mile.
Lots to share and lots to tell... that I am for sure.
I'll tell of hopes and dreams, memories to endure.
I've traveled so many paths, with many a hurt and sting.
Seems like minutes ago, but it was early... in the spring.
I don't know where the time has gone since way back then.
Lots of trouble sorting things out .. the where.... the when.
I remember summer, the warm breeze blowing through my hair,
Laughing memories, “did this”, “did that”, as my life I share.
There were hard times, pain beneath a heavy load. I agree!
Yet there were the times of beauty as far as you could see.
It was in the fall, as leaves turned from green to rust, gold, red,
I took a soulful look at the wandering paths I'd tread.
At times, don't always know the best way I should go.
I get lost! Lose my way...take paths piled deep in snow.
Winter is the greatest challenge, if truth be told .
My head says spring; my body shivers in the cold.
Now I see a turn ahead, one veering to the right.
I know that's your way; I must go toward the light.
Perhaps, beyond that unknown space of where and when,
Our paths will cross, then merge, and we'll be friends again.
Until...
Cecelia
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