I am the poem goddess and
I dance on feathered visions,
fly above my little self
and send down birdsong wisdom.
“One day you’ll be a goddess
full of dancing, feathered visions,
you will be a poem song,
a strong and brilliant woman.”
When her hazel eyes get wide
I know that she has listened.
My songs live inside her heart,
she feels the goddess rhythm.
©Angela Bigler 2018
photo credit: amber10_79 Angel Baby via photopin (license)
In my dreams, the women are drumming,
their waters are rising, silver and wild.
Making prayers of their bodies,
they dance as if swimming
under the Moon Mother spell.
© Angela Bigler 2016
photo credit: Micah Camara via photopin (license)
I didn’t know about fortune.
It was treasure you hunted,
or magically found,
Now I see it is grown
of a tiny seed planted,
deep in the soil of me.
photo credit: coofdy Down amongst the leaf litter via photopin (license)
Her songs are earth deep mantras calling names of constellations into being.
Her light soaked in, released the magic pine and herbs.
All those folded flowers lifted up their sacred prayers – water, light, dirt, love.
Her gifts – who could forget them?
Did you see her gentle curves?
The way her spine supports her children?
It’s impossible to live without her heaven/earth transcendence.
Aren’t we all turning, turning with the planet that she raised?
photo credit: 172/365 I Want to See the World via photopin (license)
Had I been adequately prepared for your visit,
I would have…
Plucked the weeds from my garden
And replaced them with budding beauties,
Invited you to sit on a soft carpet of moss,
Shaded by growing greenery,
Planned a picnic of your favorite delicacies from distant lands.
I could not arrange an appropriate setting,
Yet you made yourself at home among weeds and unpainted boards.
You refused refreshment and placed my needs ahead of your own.
Like our Lord, you came to serve.
Long after sunglow, I’ll savor your sensitivity.
~Nancy J. Ressler
photo credit: Grant MacDonald via photopin cc
There was a day each year
when baby ducks were led
from the nest behind the school
through crowds of teachers, students, praise
Waddling over smooth, linoleum floors
through the lobby where the crowd
beheld the sacred, duckling footsteps to the door
They would leave the nest
smooth, round tables
long days of numbers and words
for dreams of water songs and wings
© Angela Bigler 2013
photo credit: stevehdc via photopin cc
I should have bowed down
I should have told you
I could see you
Like the wings of all those geese
Who flew away
When we could not
Our minds are different
Like tight wound wire
All the songs and visions
The feelings come in swarms
Through skin and bone
All those nerves
For a breath
Within the flame
Where would words be?
Would summer be so deep and hot?
Can we live without ourselves?
Maybe, for a day
A quiet respite
In a lonely, tired grave?
You have a light
To the weight
Of all these
Till you bow down
Head to earth
And shed the blame
© Angela Bigler 2013
photo credit: chiaralily via photopin cc