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Photo Credit: Mary Barnet

The Pulsing Heart

God is the pulsing heart of the universe
Expanding and contracting
Zillions of eons in time.


She found her one and only
Safe refuge
The true point of her journey
Beginning with the squirrels
                who eat voraciously
While a pair of squabs
Wander among the sparrows
Bathing in a tiny puddle
Where Mary Barnet's birdhouse
Welcome Inn yields sanctuary
                 in the trees!



We walk through this world of governments
There is no place to escape to
We must retreat into the forests
The joy of our minds will blossom in time
Doors will open relative to the bliss we find
The love and succor we give
Perhaps will reflect a good light


I Am Created

a flower in my eye
the ocean about my head
what is this i create
thinking in the dark
piercing "all the facts" with fatal feeling
forcing each morning out of the past
in anxiety, though only to give perfect recognition
in pleasure to a future
sprouted from this Earth
always blossoming once more
from decaying leaves
out of the night's darkness
into the True Creator's bright daylight.


Darkest night
Illuminated by thunder ;
Vision building to dawn
All cleared by the song of sparrows.


As If

As if a thousand years
One second made,
God makes himself known to us,
That we may do as he has bade.
There is no reason life's glory will ever fade.
Sky streaked with purple,
Royal robes for sunset and sunrise,
Always our love will suffice,
& we shall live midst the blazing glory
Of our happiness-trodden glade.



Over the mountains
The sunset hovers red
Red sun and crimson clouds
The sight condenses
To a moment of awe
Full of portent
Tomorrow the prediction
Of today's light
Fading to darkness
And night dressing at
The end of this glorious display
Crimson fades to black.


Silent Triumph

Nine Canadian Geese at first light
Swoop in through the low-lying fog
Onto the Glimmerglass surface of Manitou Lake.
A young chief softly propels his maiden
Over the smooth waters
In a canoe whose strength
Is in the pressure of the water
On the almost tissue-like bark
Of the canoe he has made.
They glide together through the dawn
Like the hawk and his mate who soar above
Watching with two-foot wings
One hundred feet over the ground
With eyes so keen
They can see the heart beating
In the tiny chest of the mouse they will devour.

Terns and swallows flit and dive
With blue-green wings around
His Princess with the dove-brown eyes.
Taken by him on a dawn like this
From her elderly mother's long house
Near the mouth of the river
So recently called "Hudson"
By those who came to live on it's banks
From across the Great Sea.
Beneath the earth on that hill
There is solid rock
And Indian Pond lies only a score of feet away
In a grove of elms, maples, and willows.

Now the mature male turtle has boldly climbed
Onto a tree stump near the shore of the lake
They canoe today
To sun himself on another glorious morning
Of another glorious day.


Here Within Me

Re-channeling the inner stream of my thoughts
I must allow "heaven's river"
To glow like neon in my mind
Where each star of the Milky Way
Is brighter than the sun in the east.
I redecorate my life in bright colors ;
Far beyond rainbows and sunsets,
In space within, Each of us can truly touch the stars.



On what seems the coldest day of the year
In my new gift headphone radio
John Lennon sings about those wheels going round and round.
I watch the laundromat machines going around and around and around;
I am resigned as on a ceaseless journey.
I am content
Knowing the earth turns quietly beneath my feet.


In Memoriam, for my father

In my sadness, I am at a loss for words ---
Just as you once taught me to write poems,
You have wiped the canvas with an old sock
Clearing away the work of yesterday
To replace the old with the new.
I will write another poem.



Towards the horizon
The line of the ocean extends unbroken
Reaching beyond the town, the dunes
Inward along the land, the woods
Extend cool in the heat of noon
To where this arm of the sea again meets the land.

As they near the shore
The boats blast their horns.
The sound drifts across the sea
Reaching the beaches and the sand
Covering the forests with a peaceful clarity,
Returning on this birthday home by land and by sea.


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Copyright, 2006, Mary Barnet.
All right reserved. Reprinted by permission