Monday, 5 September 2011

Poetry Touches the Soul

I do hope that my stories of miraculous healings, and how they came about, plus some metaphysical meanderings as well as my daily life, will fill your days with hope, healing, creativity and the Great Mystery.
Cheers

C.M.W


I was asked to read some of my poetry at a Primary School evening of entertainment. Surprisingly the staff wanted me to recite a few of my 'meaningful' poems. At the time I wondered how seven through to thirteen year olds (who were usually hard for even some of the teachers to control) would be able to take in any of my readings, never mind sit still and be quiet. Anyhow I finally agreed.


Whilst reciting to the children, and their parents, the stillness in the room was so load that I was taken aback! You could have heard a pin drop
This was one of the poems that I read. It has no title.


                                                   Disappearing
                                                   Into the mirror
                                                   I watched myself
                                                   Within it all
                                                   Hiding

                                                   Woven fabric
                                                   New and old
                                                   With flecks of me
                                                   In stories told
                                                   Of waves crashing
                                                   Rolling thunder
                                                   Wind howling
                                                   Going under
                                                   Then
                                                   Surfacing
                                                   Sky becomes blue
                                                   Cleansed
                                                   And vision more true

                                                   Softly very softly
                                                   Pushing us to see
                                                   God calls out
                                                   Look at me!
                                                   Look at me!

                                                   I'm here
                                                   Within the garden
                                                   In the fruit
                                                   Hanging on that tree
                                                   In the whispering wind
                                                   That catches hair
                                                   In song of bumble bee
                                                   I`m here I`m there
                                                   I`m everwhere
                                                   For everyone to see

                                                   When
                                                   You look in the mirror
                                                   You are looking at me!


    The weeks following the readings little children would run up to me in the street to tell me that they loved the poetry! Somehow the poetry had touched their souls. The rhythm, the music of the words, had moved them. It had transported them into the space between the words, beyond the intellect, where heart unites with soul. This is why I love poetry. It moves me in no other way. Connects me to beauty and deeper realms of existence.


See previous posts for more poetry and art to do with creation


Until next time
Cheers CMW



                                          

                                                   

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