Dream Time Poetry » Inspirational Poetry

Just a trickle

Helen Howell — Sun, 09 May 2010 08:19:25 +0000

It’s just a trickle not a flood
that courses down the cheeks of one
when sadness overwhelms the day
and empathy takes precedence.

The reach and stretch to disengage
loses force and lies dismayed
within the heart and mind, the soul,
of one bound up in love.

And how to cut the strings of love
and not fall into the ego
bothers some till midnight comes
and they sleep away the grief.

But daybreak heralds in again
more trickles down the cheeks
and a prayer is heard within the air,
“May the force be with you”.

And the prayer is magnified within
for the force of love to untie strings
and dissipate the dire effects
of connectedness.

But like all prayers they suffer so
the slowness of an aged one
in getting to the point of love
un-laden and detached.

But pray I do till midnight comes
because in the time before daybreak
someone counsels those aggrieved
until trickles dry on cheeks!

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The maze

Helen Howell — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 06:31:22 +0000

Love comes at its own time
and takes us from the mundane
into the extraordinary
but to see it, feel it, know it,
not for the feint hearted.

The heart needs strength and fortitude
and the will to survive
through loss and grief and circumstance
that twists its path into a maze
with seemingly no exit.

But the exit’s there with every turn
for every corner holds the truth
albeit closely to its breast
like a mother would a child.

That child is fed and nurtured
but of love in this duality
it bears the brunt of fire and ire
and becomes as dust and grit
in the eyes of the beholder.

And that beholder’s you and me
who meander in our suffering
until we truly can believe
love never leads us to a place
that kills our free will choice
to simply turn the corner
and find the opening!

Helen / 14 November 2009

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Stairs

Helen Howell — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 12:53:52 +0000

Stairs start and lengthen more
from the dungeon of despair
to make of every step
a laboured affair.

No man or beast, angelic friend,
or sweetheart of the heart’s desire
can lift the burden, ease the pain,
or change a state of mind.

But there always was and still is
the self that knows no other way
than up with good and down with bad
until the climb turns night to day.

And in the light of clarity
effort begets its own reward
that creeps into the psyche, see
and turns a servant into lord.

And so of lords both here and there
they set a standard for us all
and soon upon the highest stair
life will be as once before!

Helen / 6 November 2009

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And so…

Helen Howell — Wed, 17 Jun 2009 17:56:17 +0000

The grass is green and “squishy” soft
under one and two and many more
footsteps placed just so
and, oh, just so to satisfy
the need of easy passage
to where’re the journey ends.

Little is known of the “far ahead”
perceived as just a dream
but when the grass turns brown
and the ground a hardened mass
footsteps falter, pause, then stop
at the point of contemplation.

And so of crossing the divide
between the easy and the hard
I wonder if my bag of tricks
holds a carpet full plush pile
to soft land me on hardened ground
but, lo behold, no one can look
when unaware of change.

To suddenly be “there”
and know there’s no retreat
like a mission aborted
stabs at strength and fortitude
unrelentingly.

And so of walking on, on, on,
across the barren and the hard
I wonder if, I wonder if,
I wonder if I should,
but then I remember,
remember the dream!

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Golden orb

Helen Howell — Mon, 13 Apr 2009 07:41:47 +0000

Like a golden orb of happiness
the setting sun doth shine
but the sun is moving all the time
here to there and then nowhere
and this movement like a lover
determined not to care.

The not to care an evil “thing”
that grabs me by the throat
and squeezes, squeezes, squeezes,
until I backtrack and retreat
into my withdrawal.

And withdrawal is a shady spot;
I recline there like a sloth
on all I hope and wish would be
until finally the moment comes
of the shine within
of a better, greater, grander orb
than ever seen before.

But too that orb is known to move
here to there and then nowhere
because I can’t believe
orbs of happiness can be
independent of life’s happenings!

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The dot!

Helen Howell — Wed, 04 Mar 2009 19:22:16 +0000

Only half of all there is
like half a turn, half a yearn,
half a thought, a wish,
comes to one unmindful of
the power of completion.

This power like a furnace burns
to heat up mind’s intent
and send it searching in the rough
for the perfect whole.

I’m rather fond of commas
because maybe there’ll be more
and it’s like I’m finely tuned
to continually anticipate
that blessed other half
until I come to know
a full stop makes a half
completely complete.

I can end most anything
with a simple little dot
but until I dot the “I”
I’m searching in the rough
not destined ere to find
what I’m searching for!

Helen / 4 March 2009

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I AM!

Helen Howell — Wed, 11 Feb 2009 18:58:09 +0000

I’m at the base of life’s pyramid scheme
stretched and extended to no good avail
adding some more to the already before
then some more and thereafter some more.

Not good, not bad, but foundations don’t last
when stuck in a whirlwind of everyday chores
that produces a mind devoid of intent
to retreat into the glory of the essential “I am”.

But give me a chance to finish the base
I’m a worker, you see, diligent and inspired
to acquire the “this” and surely the “that”
before I’m allowed to see the first crack.

Once a crack starts it travels and goes
to where a division will make an impact
and force a step either forward or back
because no one can stand in the middle.

But life is a trickster, a swindler, a cheat
and makes us decide without a contract
for surely it seeks to tie up mankind
in a vacuum of physical needs and desires.

I’m a woman of needs, I desire, yes indeed,
but a vacuum’s a deadly and dark empty place
too mean to allow an expansion and stretch
of the great and glorious essential “I am”.

But I am, I am, I most decidedly am
all that I am when I think that I am
the great and glorious essential “I am”!

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The heart

Helen Howell — Mon, 14 Jul 2008 13:58:12 +0000

It’s time to go away when the heart is full of woe
as if the world at large can re-align that part
where consequences lie and multiply
for the turn away
from the dependent helpless.

But it’s known in circles wide and large
that distance cannot by itself
twist the truth into a lie
and make from that a happy smile.

It’s heart alone that re-aligns
when the knowing of a mind decides
to supply the tools, nuts, bolts, and screws,
that hold in place what has to be.

And mind, my mind, too slow to know
a heart in need pleads for relief
and so that part off-center leans
and threatens every day to fall.

But nothing falls; heart knows to wait
until the hurt lies fallow, dead,
and weights the heart with all that’s past
like roots that hold what’s yet to be!