Crow Glimpses

.
Thought. Images. Glimpses.
Ebony in green.
What is worth the effort?
And always
a heart song lingers
this gray morning.
Crow calls to nowhere I know,
Yet hope is always
this love.
.

Studio of Dreams

It was one of those dreams in which the reality shifts between what we know out here and a higher knowing.  Then there is the awakening process and its shifting awareness.  Often so much more than what we recognize as truth in our daily lives. Trying to retain it is a challenge.

Studio of Dreams

The setting is Love --
the forest, the temple.
The prairie knoll.  Quiet valley.
Is love.  In all its forms.
Ethereal and real.
Substance and color.
New now matures.
Still it is you.
So much to go -- this love
of Art and the Artist of Dreams
my Love.

As the medium.  The paint.  Clay.
A stroke.  I mold visions
of yours.  Dreams
are mine.
Memories
almost surreal.
Hands and cheek.
The back of your neck.
Strand of hair waves the light
to Eternity.