here are are a couple of the poems I have written
Dream of a world, create it
shift is constant.
black and white fabric , reality
folded upon itself , clipped to lace
by scissors of realization,
you, I, we, all, none ,stand here
on a point in the void, of potential
The empty fullness, the full emptiness
where only the mad, and Buddha's, stand
Flux is Universal Law
prophets ,old ,new, of doom or glory.
are all right! are all wrong !
reality is malleable
it is a game
collective mind ,heart ,will of life
Artist, builder, creator, maker
you, carve the future.
your lathe , thought
THE SMALL LIT FOYER.
You asked me in September,
to draw a plan up, of my mind
to look into my life
and observe what I might find.
I found a small lit foyer
and some long darkened halls,
with old and dusty boxes piled,
in heaps along the walls.
Along the halls were many rooms
and some were bright and clean
but most were black or firmly barred
so nothing could be seen.
I stood upon the threshold
I wondered if I would dare
to search those passages
and meet what fluttered there.
as I stood there, time was passing
September had more than gone
unasked, as I waited timid,
dimly, came a clouded dawn.
Pushing back the shadows
though not so very far
changing things from black to brownness
through a window , somehow left ajar.
Now seen in that dim lightness
are the maggots of my fears
the rotted webs of spiders
and dust of many years
But, I've also found my dancing shoes,
a shawl the shade of sky
in a corner some small cocoons
where warmth may build a butterfly
Now I look upon those still, black shadows
and the chained and bolted doors
I know that light, hard work and hope
can remove the strongest horrors.
I have hidden treasure here
along with all the stone.
and nothing here can kill me
since I put it here myself, alone.
Here turns the year, harvest come
wanderer returns to hearth and home
gather near the fire so warm and bright
if you have a true true love
May you be with them tonight
if your true love you have not found
may you meet them before
the next year comes round
Top of poems
© 1997 ,2001 Peggy Jentoft
Empowerment Workshops by Peggy Jentoft
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