WHERE I HIDE IN PLAIN SIGHT Meg Devlin Irish
There is an unquenchable thirst,
I long to bathe in.
Where I hide in plain sight
in the light of his eyes.
Where he dances around my heart,
and blesses me to see
where I hide in plain sight!
THE LOSS OF SOUL Meg Devlin Irish
Life is meaningless
where hate begrudges
the very breath
that gifts our distinction!
Our colors woven
into a divine work of art
More the loss of Soul!
DIGGING DEEP Meg Devlin Irish
Diggin deep, unearthing the earth
through roots nested in tangled mesh.
And the intent of my attempt,
creator of dreams, my souls convent,
is for your handiwork, no matter my nudging,
to surely rise again.
And like for my soul,
the sheer spillover of nature
is a wonder to behold!
HUMILITY IS IT'S NAME Meg Devlin Irish
Immersed in the stillness of whispers deep
I taste of the morning dew and quench the burning need!
A need for the world to love me
once was greater than my soul!
A trip, a quest, sported barrenness
and proved nothing would I own!
Here I am now as I am
as truth defines the oneness
and humility is it's name!
HER ENIGMATIC FRIEND Meg Devlin Irish
When bodacious Autumn commands
" I must begin!"
Sultry Summer branches whisper,
" Do join in!"
With her gentle sway in passing,
she's graced to enhance
Autumn's fired up dressing
befitting the dance!
From lissome step to bedazzing blend,
her soul's survival
is assumed on arrival
of her enigmatic friend!
GLORIOUS MELANCHOLY Meg Devlin Irish
A glorious melancholy has settled in
with its air of familiarity.
The bliss of summer is gone
with its carefree felicity.
The harvest beckons to tantalize,
its brilliance tears my eyes.
Yet, I fall not woeful, dejected, abashed
through orchards of tempting ripeness,
clinging, trampled, mashed.
For I am ripened by a greater Spirit
that in essence knows,
this too must pass!
THE LAST EVE OF SUMMER Meg Devlin Irish
There is nothing here that belongs to me,
so I must give way to reason
as day gives way to dusk and season to season!
But, if this last eve of summer should linger on,
while crickets chirp their chant along,
I'll skip this evening's sup, and sit on these porch boards 'til numb,
in dignity attesting and with pomp acquiescing to Autumn's rising sun!
So Human Meg Devlin Irish
Hummingbirds fly through my heart
at so fast a pace as I can't follow!
And so it goes, as time, seasons,
none to be captured!
So human to yearn to stall the rush!
LONG JOURNEY HOME Meg Devlin Irish
Awash in a sea of stories
through waves of shifting tides,
peeling away the veneer,
following the deep impulse of conviction
into the reality of purpose,
casting out all doubt
that stows it's way in
on this Long Journey Home!
THE MASTER Meg Devlin Irish
You weave through me
I am your tapestry
You are my breath
I am your freedom
You are the dreamer
I am your sway
You smooth out my edges
I am your rhythmic splendor
You are the Master
I am complete!
Au naturel Meg Devlin Irish
She's readying for Spring,
tilted on her axis,
giddying with tease,
as her white dress slowly slips away...
SWEET, SWEET SEASON Meg Devlin Irish
Sweet, sweet season
come sugar me up
from winter's leavings of ragged ruts!
For I've become a rusty fixture
while channels flow' round me,
burrowed deep in suspension's tide,
in need of a rallying cry!
Transponders Of Joy Meg Devlin Irish
I awaken to the stillness and rise in a whispering stream of dawn light.
The pine floor snaps into submission under my creaking toes....
as my bed warm fingers draw aside curtain lace.
I peer transfixed through snowflaked glass at my world
held in capricious season....
The sparkling aura layered on birch and maples is surreal
in the phase of morning sun....while spruce and hemlock
are bowed silent in clumps of nature's styrofoam.
The birds, long gone from their feeders now tilted in white top hats...
and their empty summer cottages with doorways snowed in....
left only with a promissory 'note' of return!
Do I remain here in wait for their return like the powdered filigree of the
trumpet vine that spreads it's spring beauty...and like me...
nurtures them until autumns frost?
A soft meowing...a gravelly woof and wet nosed nudge, remind me...
I am more than a nested arbor vine...
frozen in scape!
I've a youthful heart and formidable companions!
As I ruffle up some fur on these warm transponders of joy...
grab and wrap my woolen sweater 'round me...
we pad off, 'one for all, all for one',...to fetch from wood box to wood stove...
assured in our audacious ritual to stave off
IN HONOR, AN HONOR Meg Devlin Irish
Silence is golden; on peaceful shores crippling,
when fears arise on seas untamed,
opening wounds of lost heroes
glory regrets to name!
In honor, is there refuge
but a hand reached at death’s stop,
crushing what anger has wrought?
An honor to salute that hand
for those who served and time forgot!
SURRENDER Meg Devlin Irish
The shifting of the sun,
the rising of the moon,
transpire and unbraid
as cascading mountain peaks,
surrender to the depths of the sea!
So, I hasten not the sun
or the timely gift of moon,
for all that is I can't see.
But, like forested leaves from autumn trees,
I know the surrender to be!
SUNRISE REMEMBERS AUTUMN Meg Devlin Irish
She winks and blushes
then sidles as if to tease
in fiery assent over mountain top trees
Aureate beams, burnished strokes herald on blue
as sunrise remembers Autumn!
She twirls down branches, haplessly crumpling leaves.
Their rusty mottled presence purports to deceive.
But, for creator, giving a grander view,
Sunrise remembers Autumn!
WIND SONG Meg Devlin Irish
Draw me forth from the cradle of creation
so that I may embrace the wind.
What would there be if not space to be?
Gather me in the reaches of forever.
Unfurling, fluttering, soaring
as an eagle at dawn
to rest in the ease of knowing
something greater, more powerful
has it’s breath in my Windsong!
NATURE'S PAGES Meg Devlin Irish
A wisp of wind dances unheeding
as I mark the page I've left reading;
for autumn morn breaks through the east wood
where the maple and birch have long stood!
My porch dappled, dancing and beaming
in light waves adrift on daydreaming,
as natures' scent comes to fill the bouquet
from neighboring farmer baling his hay!
Monarchs dance amidst blossoms shedding
in gardens too soon set for bedding!
Such beauty and freedom grace earths' display,
a gifted diadem blessing my day!
Yet, leave I must this sprightly morning,
though for daydream I'm truly born in.
Thankful for the journey and poets look
at pages from natures sensual book!
INSPIRATION Meg Devlin Irish
You pocket me in transcendent bliss.
I am assumed in color ardent and royal
with no escape from the discourse!
How you come in moments of rare plenty
and brandish me in verse!
In a whispering hush my pen leads my hand
as if rehearsed!