I FOLLOW THE SON  Meg Devlin Irish

I follow the Son
in his footsteps
a new life begun
By the power of His spirit
holy and just
living from the inside out
where He and I are one!


There is an unquenchable thirst,
arousing, tantalizing,
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
become threadbare!
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!


                                                                               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! 


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! 


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! 


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 
rapacious winter! 

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, 
insurmountably free, 
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! 



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!