midnight wind chimes

wandering around the house at midnight,

on a secret mission

(for tums

or advil

or something else i’ve forgotten) --

i am akin to silence:

we are partners in the night.... 

creeping through her,

(silence, yes, feels like a ‘she’....)

with her, around her,

we do our care-full duties....

•

then breezes

stir the windchimes on the deck,

drawing my gaze outward:

silverglow from the moon,

muffled under wooly cloud,

and underneath,

even birds hunker....

•

silence and i pause on our rounds

and take in the breeze,

the chimes,

the hunkering birds,

and we hug ourselves just a little bit –

grateful for shelter,

and children,

and each other....

__________

©2015

beth anne boardman

juniper dreaming

  

scent of juniper

on the night wind –

velvet elk in the

near shadows….

rolling voices

distant

jingle of bells,

crack of gourds

grey dawn

on ceremony day….

•

juniper on my pillow

at the black

of midnight –

reawakening

reviving

retying me

to the past

the future….

messages crossing

time, distance, rocky bluffs….

•

recalling

scrub juniper

rocks and sand

my companions

mists and winds

my mantle –

•

never alone

with a lifetime

of miracles

memories

priests

shamans

poets

goddesses

children

ancestors

replete with images

adventures

alive

waiting….

juniper

calling….

i,

arriving….

___________________

© 2011 ©2014

beth anne boardman

Hurry

Mockingbirds, heal me

Ravens, heal me

Rain, heal me

Southeasterly breezes

bringing unfamiliar sounds,

Heal me

Sounds of kitchen

Sounds of neighbor

Sounds of every new day,

Heal me

Open windows,

Heal me

Red canyons,

Heal me

Silver trees,

Heal me

Faint green leafy mist,

Heal me

And hurry.

Warmth

Light

Bees,

Heal me.

God is outside

And why I must live

With the windows

Open.

Heal me

And hurry

Thank you

________________

©2014

beth anne boardman

the black sun

so many starry nights

in this usually fog-kissed land!

sitting between

fire and prayer,

i watch the unveiling....

tonight

a beginner crescent moon

lilts

in the sky-arc –

the stars

bowing out

of her way

as she passes....

swirls of bats

dart

softly trilling,  

through clouds of glowing bugs –

their bites save me....

on nights like this one,

all the sky bodies seem

to dance for the earth....

(except for venus

beaming her silvergold

defiance!

she stands

resolute and steady –

notwithstanding

her time to outglow

the moon and stars

and setting sun

numbers only tens

of minutes....)

i am transfixed

by the starshow

and venus

and the moon....

(time and miracles merge

when sometimes

you stop

and

talk

to

stars....)

atmospheric water

uplights

into pastels so deep and clear,

you could fall right up into them –

and out into space –

if you weren’t careful....

this

is the miracle

of the black sun:

the time of glowing

after all hope of warmth is lost....

of promise-filled evenings

when fountains of sparks appear

after one has accepted

the death of light....

i am living proof

of the survival of dreams....

i carry the evidence

of life’s brutality....

i know myself alone

with the mystery....

and led on by

its harbored light....

(and in my

secret heart

i forever

dance with stars....)

_________________

©2012

beth anne boardman