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Love beyond Time by Dev
Far away and long beyond,
across the Web, still lies the bond
once fired strong between the two -
that chanced to break before 'twas due.
How deep the chasm and the loss,
that none may build a bridge across!
But out from those hearts spun a twine,
Light-forged in Spirit's own Design.
And so, from distance, time and space,
the Wheel returned to that far place
where once death won, but wins no more:
this Time the bond creates a Door.
Counselor and Poet of Deep and Mythic Pathways, Dev has studied, explored, and experienced shamanic and spiritual
traditions from Celtic to Native American, journeying the Matrix of Light since birth. She is a Healing Touch
Shaman, Dimensional Mystic, and has had a book of Celtic poems published, called Myst-taken Identity.
The Ancient Ones by Butterfly
I remember…
From the beginning you have been.
You are from a time of every thought.
You are the ancient ones.
I remember…
To a time when there was only love.
Time when all breathe was one.
When our being was but a seed.
Time of our awakening.
You are the ancient ones.
I remember…
My longing for life.
The cries of my birth.
The force of being brought forth.
You have waited and watched.
You are the ancient ones.
I remember…
Time, the time of waiting is over.
The silence has been broken.
There can be no forgetting.
The time has come to listen.
You are the ancient ones.
I remember…
The bones of the ancient grandparents.
You are returning, I cannot forget you now.
The need is great you are among us.
You are the ancient ones.
I remember…
Be with me now as you cradled me back then.
Hold my hand as you guide me through.
Your words I hear on the wind.
Your wisdom I see in the stars.
You are the ancient ones.
I remember…
I remember…
Butterfly is a wife, mother and a crone. I believe, love and live the magic of my environment. I live a secluded
life with my traditional husband and my mystical cat.
May life find you in love.
The Passing by Jennifer Monaghan
tired body,
old
the passage
of time
evident in the
cloudy eyes
time too short
for the weeping
faces that
surround him
the sun shines
on him one last
time
they carry his
body into
the cabin
in fear and
grief they make
one last attempt
in vain
one last call
to the vet
within the hour
one last sigh
carried home
in a basket
positioned as
though just
sleeping
not gone
ashes in a box
to be scattered
in the lake he
once loved
the ghost of
an overgrown puppy
bounding free
along the lakeshore
sometimes at night
his bark
can be heard
bringing comfort
to tired
empty hearts
in memory of Bully
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