poetry

catching sparks

/ jill autrey dorman / 2 Comments

 

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I put my mind on pause till the midnight moonrise

I get hysterically reverent when the church bells chime

Painted soft flames of love flick around my heart

the shadow of a poet, she’s only catching sparks.

I want to sleep deeply in a minor key

need that old emerald seas washing over me.

Sprinkles of “should haves” drop into the sand

As seeker, a woman. Just had to love that man.

Catching sparks, clear as star fire

Catching sparks of loving-kindness

Catching sparks like yellow fireflies

Catching sparks till I close my eyes.

joni mitchell and a cup of tea…

/ jill autrey dorman / 3 Comments

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Joni Mitchell and a cup of tea…

I shut the door so no one can see

and dream of something kept underground

when I had to jump off that merry-go-round.

 

I loved the ride and all the pretty horses

I loves what I thought I would be.

I would have sold my blood to be published

so all the work could read.

 

I would wax eloquent and be held in high esteem…

all the other riders would admire me.

They would gaze at me on my grand carousel

marveling at all the wisdom I share.

 

Well now I speak in present tense…

the merry-go-round broken down and spent.

For my profound literature there is no need

I still like Joni and a cup of tea.

sjad

 

the way I was before…

/ jill autrey dorman

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I have long been running toward that Morning light

trying so hard to be the holy one with all my might

Then you whisper in my ear, “Peace, be still.”

 

I have long been kneeling in that Cathedral in the sand

trying so hard to form my self into a holy jar

Then you whisper in my ear, “I am the Potter.”

 

I have long been wading in that River of life

desperate to drink the holy water that cleans

Then you whisper in my ear, “I am the water that never ends.”

 

No I lay me down on the Alter of Holy Rest

Trust my hands to the maker of all that grows

and drink every drop form the River of Life…

 oh how Peaceful it is to “be still and know.”

Heart to the Cradle

/ jill autrey dorman

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       Stained glass windows of Jesus the Lamb

                    innocent drops of blood soaking up this land

No chance to rock the cradle

     ancient before their time

The rose will grow with thorns

             the innocent with their lives

Cry over me, cry over me

Heart to the cradles of time

Fly over me, fly over me

who commits the crime

 

Ruby Love

/ jill autrey dorman

pexels-photo.jpgRuby love did you lose your love?

               so hard to know what’s coming’ down

Ruby love did he use your love?

               spinning your dreams around

Ruby love do you love the blues?

            flying high and getting down

Ruby love the blues love you

           put on your dancing’ gown

Lets go dancing’ Ruby

             Lets put our lipstick on

Lets go uptown sweet Ruby

             the way we did when we were young

a dreaming night

/ jill autrey dorman

Half moon rising

it is a dreaming night

the indigo sky

yields a winter’s blue light

 

I dreamed I was flying

riding on the Breath of God

the sweetest sense of Peace

where the angels trod

 

Quiet lay like a mantle

of snow upon the earth

the enchanted song of Holy

forms a wreath upon my brow

 

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Watercolor

/ jill autrey dorman

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For many years as a young adult I felt like a “watercolor wash” painting. Blending into the dominant colors of those around me who had so much influence on my life. I didn’t even know my favorite color, food, or music. I didn’t know what I believed about life and death…and I realized I had to paint with my very own colors. My gentle memories run to those persons and I love them whether they were harsh or gentle. They had dreams of their own but listened to mine anyway and for them I am grateful…
The first and glaring color was a bright arterial red. While red is not my favorite color there is no doubt in my mind there can be no redemption without the shedding of blood. That color represents the day I met Jesus Christ and let him become my Redeemer.
The next and my favorite colors are the blues and greens of the sea and sky. The ocean, the beach is where I walked stronger and healed my heart. The salt water and wind a balm to my young weary soul. These colors are where I learned that I will live forever and that I can soar on the breeze or dive into the depths and behold my God is still there.
Yellows, pinks, and violets are the colors in my life where I flew too close to the sun and my skin was burned but the new skin grew back pink and healthy. The rich flora hues and scents drove me forward toward the goals of softness, children, and safety. Still and always learning…
The rich dark color of the brown/black dirt with its earthy scent comes next for after all this is where this earthly body was formed…how can a human not love the earth? Deep within it lies the mystery of creation and purpose…and then the clear snowy white to emerald to muddy silt of the rivers that run to the sea…a Holy Baptism there…
The last and final colors in my watercolor are silver and gold. The bright and shining stars of the galaxies. These colors remind me that I am significant but small and even greater still these colors are a testament to the infinite bigness of my God. The one who loves me beyond all measure and always will. So, I will keep painting for now and let the fire keep burning bright. On that day that I lay down the paint brush I will have said what I have to say and make my stand humbly and always trusting that life will carry on…and oh yes, I will keep painting…

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Thank you for your response. ✨

Further Down Stream

/ jill autrey dorman / 2 Comments

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The river gets deeper, not shallow, the further you move down the stream…

This is a small collection of what I call poetry but I am not sure that is the correct term. I do not claim to be a poet…you will see that some of these were written when the river was still shallow…

 

 

fear is a wilderness where the devil runs around

he tempted Jesus there now he wants to take me down.

fear is a wilderness where death creeps up on trust

the water is polluted and hope turns into dust.

fear is a wilderness where Jesus walked alone

oh but the King of Ages left the wilderness undone!

 

The Sixties

I was just a few years too young to get to Woodstock

           but oh how I adored all the songs…

As they pulled us along to the future

           we longed to be part of the stories going on…

There was white cross and reds as they slowly got stoned

         so what was once clear was all gone…

 

Now I have two daughters of my own

        and I still love all those Woodstock songs…

I have raised them up straight in prosperity 

        they have the same sapphire eyes as me

but oh how wise and shrewd they have to be to keep up

       with their world and their sanity!

9/2001

 

Crown of Tears

She wore a silver Sorrow like a crown upon her head.

Upon her shoulders, Burden, 

her feet were shod with Dread.

Then touched was she by Grace

and Mercy that crown replaced.

Now, she dons a golden Joy

made of tears from Jesus’ face.

 

smile

I was lovely then…

                     Blushing peachy cheeks…

I was funny then

                    Laughter honeysuckle sweet…

I lay down with you then

                  Beneath a full white moon…

I smile when I remember

                 the Symphony of my Youth…

 

(all poems by jill autrey dorman all rights reserved.)

 

Mischief in the Fire

/ jill autrey dorman / 1 Comment
abstract art blaze bonfire

Photo by Pixabay

 

Language is my orchestra sometimes a lullaby

Emotion is the music the poet’s heart lives by.

 

In the silence of my dream words go dancing through

An Image just too beautiful all logic out of view

 

An artist lives within me a way of beating all the odds

The sticker on the rose bush pricks discovery one again

 

All children start out poets I just cannot let that go

So stir the mischief in the fire and let enchantment glow