My Love Said to My Love

My love

said to my love

I am here.

Be with me,

and fan the flames

of true existence.

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A Gilded Summer Meditation in 3 Parts

1/
So many summers
Passing
Renewing
Reviewing
Repeating

A rejuvenating
Laying of a gentle
Touch and waste
To skin.

2/
Summer days,
When the heat
And the light
Shine,
rise white
on city pavement,
And persistent
memories
trick
the mind,
Without the
luxury of repetition;
Simply a lingering taste of
The summer wonder
Of green childhood.

3/
The poplars wave
And clap
A flickering Gold and green
A rustling sound
In balm of sunlit wind.
The grasses
Genuflect
Bowing tasseled
heads,
To ground,
And high up
green and
Sky bound,
Golden
Boughs sway
In overarching
Gratitude
of
The boundless brilliant sun.

Poetry Art, the Child

Aside

Poetry , Art the Child

There is a quiet
And exhilarating joy
In poetry or art ,
like a child
born and raised
on page or canvas
waiting to be engaged ,
appreciated ,
waiting to delight ,
to commit
and reflect the
viewer , the reader,
to occupy their mind .
Poetry , art
Is like a child
whose company
is precious
to enjoy ,
and to delight in.
It gives us joy
and a single parting
taste
of the fleeting sweetness
That is life .

From “Eyes of the Artist ” by PWChaltas

 

A Young Boy Had a Friend

A Young Boy Had a Friend

There was once a young boy

who

had a friend .

They laughed together
this friend and he
in flights of fantasy
and through rites of story
till finally
when the
day darkened
to sliver moonshine ,
the friend
descended down below
to that place
where the music
played  in subterranean beat
In those
Places where the work
was mostly done.
And that
young boy ,
he would learn
to live and to earn
as his friend did ,
to  have joy ,
to be tough
and determined
when he had to ,
but most
of all to be mindful
And always
to remember
those who were
and would be
his friends .

Posada

Posada

It’s night .
We’re far away
without a home
in flight
on angel’s wings,
and in need of
tender shielding
love .
Open up your heart ,
and let us in
for the nurturing ,
and the healing to begin .
We are here .
No other shelter near .
The nights are filled
with weariness
and fear .
Make it a night of sweet survival ,
of rest ,
of everything that’s dear ,
to human hearts
and to those who
are gathered in ,
who have loved so well .

Open up your doors
to guests and strangers
and let us in .
The moments flow
passing
like running water .
There’s no time left
to waste .
The time will come
when the world
will need a refuge
to reside in ,
when the earth will
open to the light
and yield to
another heart
that has turned the key
and let us in.

Open and let us in .
Let us come inside
to shelter you
and all those that you love .
Lets begin a silent night
with love
that enters into day .

From “No Subject here Just Light” by PWChaltas

Merry Christmas