Mother of all Living…

Stuart France

*

The Spirit planted a garden on its holy mountain in the east.

It was sown with trees whose fruits were blazing jewels:

diamond, sapphire, and agate, emerald, sardonyx and cornelian, opal,

beryl, and topaz, malachite, garnet and amethyst.

*

In the centre of the garden grew the tree

of life; four streams, of milk, honey,

wine and oil issued from its roots.

*

The golden leaves and bright, crimson jewels which adorned

its branches, surpassed in beauty all the other created things,

and its glorious crown threw a radiant shadow over the garden.

*

The garden in the east was tended by Yva, the mother of all living.

 

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The dispossessed

Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

faded-beauty-2Where do they go, the faces of youth?
The smiles and laughter,
The sparkling eyes
And witty conversation?
They are lost in the silence
Of forgotten solitude;
Of endless days
And sleepless nights
When the mouth never opens
Except for tea
And pills that keep alive
The empty shell.

Where have they gone,
The minds that wander?
Back to the pastures of childhood
Or a first nervous kiss?
To the babe in arms
And its laughter,
Eye to eye in delight?
Or the last touch of lips
On eyes that have closed
And will not open;
Eyes that shared secrets
Of love and pain.

Where have they gone,
The blushing brides
And tall young men?
Are they forgotten
In the scent of lilies
And stale cigarettes,
Their faces, too weary
To hold their shape,
Reaching already for the grave
For want of a smile?
The sparkle lost
To desuetude.

Voices…

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Points of view

Daily Quote by Sue Vincent

Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

Some eyes see only through a darkened haze
Behind dark lenses, blinkered, self-conditioned
Blind to the dancing joy where rainbows arc
Afraid to see the colours life commissioned.

Some eyes see far in pastel coloured glory
Leaving life behind them as they sail
Upon a golden mist of wonder in the morning
To reach a world that glows behind the veil.

Some eyes look inwards, seeing only self
Or mirrored images of other eyes
Colouring their vision with their fears,
They live in hope that every mirror lies.

Some eyes are dull and lifeless, hold no light,
No spark within, of happiness bereft,
All joy extinguished by the flow of tears
As sorrow weighs the pittance they have left.

Some see with certainty in monochrome
In black or white there is no compromise,
No shade of grey compassion in their glance,
No empathy or kindness in their eyes.

Yet some…

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