Speak To Me

Speak To Me

(a collaboration of Janet and Bill)

(Bill)

in the near quiet of my soul

there is a music

and barely audible whisperings

telling me

“there is more”

many times

my life is too busy

to pay attention

to the details

and there are times

i desperately long

to hear those sweet incantations

that are surely heaven borne

i find my significance

in the voices of those

who would take their divine time

to instruct me

on the way i should go

the thoughts

i should think

the feelings

i should embrace

all of that good cloth

Speak To Me

(Janet)

Speak to me . . .
of Empty Holiday Stockings
full of promise . . .
and gifts that require no Earthly Utterance
but are strong of substance.

Whisper to me . . .
of Horizons just beyond
the mili-second sunset
where Birds Of Paradise Glide
and Doves are well known
for their peaceful crooning songs.

Sing to me . . .
the words of Inspiration
that lift me up
and let me sing
my song, with it's strange chorus
only known by God . . .

and . . .

possibly the Enlightened Ones
who shift in and out of sight
with third eye acquity and the ease
of fairies on wing.

Fly with me . . .
to the Mother Planet
where there is no time
and we safely dance
on the rainbow razor's edge
where truth lies
on every distant shore.

Awaken me . . .
from this dream
of harsh perspectives
into my own reality
where butterflies dance
this has been my cry
forevermore.

(bill)

i too have these longings

that are no longer willing

to lie passively

at the gate of my desires

they refuse to sit by the fence

and watch the blossoming

of sweet fruits

in the gardens

of dreams that are dying

for the lack of nurture

the vitality of my youth

remembered

but no longer lived

in how i approach my day

i lament

have i wasted too much time

seeking my own image

found in passing faces

passing times

passing joys

that indentured themselves

to my hauntings

instead of my realizations

yes oh Spirit of the Father

Angels of Mercy

speak to me

tell me of thy plans

for this life

that slowly slips

between the fingers

of my once firm grasp

speak to me

(Janet)

I too had wondered this very day
had I wasted too much time
on coarse habits that lead to
nowhere . . .
except devout decay.

In my wondering, wandering
and pondering ways . . .
I finally quieted myself
and heard ancestral whisperings
of assurance . . .
that my path was straight.

The messages came to me
as clearly as Montego Bay.
Gentle voices, like many waters
stirring and I heard every one.

“My child, my Child,
you are beauty divine
you are love's breath
every moment, everyday

nay . . .

no misstep was taken by you
it was all in your guided plan.

The people of the world
know not, who you are
and it is not your place
to convince them

just be . . .
the light of your Father
who exudes brilliance
you too illuminate
without knowing

and time is but a fallacy
continue as you are, with we.”

This, they spoke to me.

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