Sunday, August 7, 2011

after the rain

photo by david j nightingale

summer rusting down to fall
where spring breathed frosty green
but a moment gone
once ice sharp emerald
tending towards russet now
dried seed-heads offering summer’s richness
back to the mother of all
for winter's Keeping

this cathedral has no walls
these hymns, no words
prayers inchoate formed
from language remembered from the womb
all Knowings outside any realm inhabited
since before the Wall
before the impenetrable curtain
of possibilities
fell around the singular self
defining space and time
and in defining

in the first morning light
last night’s downpour is captured
in the cups of leaves and blossoms
hollows of stone
ephemeral promise that this day is new
pathways unexplored open
lead the traveller soul
into sudden mysteries of sun and shadow
and my place on this wheel a blip
in all of Time

but the Breath
ah! the Breath!
there is nothing that can still
heaven’s wind
the Word made flesh
dwells always among us
songs and stories plucked from the Divine Unconscious
and spilled into the minds the hearts
the dancing feet
of those who wait for god

© 2011 pamela twining

Saturday, July 23, 2011

pilgrim heart

your name is Love
and i have sought you
in all the rooms and corners of my soul
down the long corridors of Days
in dreams and nightmares
when memories are not enough
i look to heaven

i know your name
your name is Love
through my most grievous fault
my soul was severed from completeness
a moment’s lack of Trust
consequences reverberate through Time

i raised my lamp high
the better to see you
one drop of oil fell
burning your shoulder, startling you awake
and in that moment
knowing i was not Whole
you fled

i know your name
which you chose to hide from me
but i rebelled
claiming more than you were willing
to give me then
and so i lost you

always seeing you flickering
in my Deepest Vision
just ahead
shimmering in my Joyous sight

when i approach
a mirage
gone again
as the light waves in my eyes disband
dissolved in tears

our love was Whole
i bear the children your soul offered me
Light and Inspiration
you asked one thing of me
and i could not see
in Blindness failing not only you
but Love

i know your name
your name is Love
and when we meet again
i’ll tell you mine

© 2011 pamela twining

Sunday, July 10, 2011

breaking fast

                                                                ~ for esther         
in sight of the smoke
of morning cook fires
i remember the passing of elders
from the realm of Time
the Knowing
that if we are to have them
we must see their faces in the dew
sparkling in mist-shrouded hollows
hear their voices in the Silence
marked by the musical chatter
of the creatures of the dawn
and the homely noise of the firekeepers
the makers of food
preparing to share the bounty of another day
in the meadow

the family awakens
and comes forth to feasting
awakens to the sound of the grandmothers
singing morning blessings
awakens to the communion of souls in Time
only to recognize the Timelessness
of All

the grandmothers, the grandfathers
call to us with their last breath
endlessly resonating on the wind
the breath of generations
never gone
the family remembers how to listen
how to see
sharing fire and bread, drum and dance
refining the web
that makes from many

© 2011 pamela twining

photo: swapan mukherjee

Saturday, July 9, 2011


i met you in Magic Meadow
and we held hands
and listened to the wind
soughing intermittently through the trees
the music of the Wild
the only sound

i walked with you in the Poet’s Walk
and we poured our minds
our hearts our lives
into the golden hudson valley bowl
reflecting our songs up
into the ever-magnificent
ever-changing catskill mountain skies

i waved to you from Olana
across that ancient river
the vast expanse that lies between us
in brilliant clarity
the air crackles with light and passion
there is no distance
in the world of love

© 2011 pamela twining
  Photo: Clouds Over Olana ~ Frederick Edwin Church

Thursday, June 16, 2011


lost in the verdant overgrowth
of days and weeks of rain
too beautiful
a misty sunday morning
Not to go walking in the Meadow

shed snakeskin transfiguration
stone warmed
in yesterday's heat and she reclined
slipped out of her old life
scales removed from the eyes
of her soul
she is gone in Joy
to the unlit caverns of Night
shrouded deep in earth
as the rains come again

unseen Makers
spin hanging basket webs
among the grasses
their only visible captives
shards of light
winking on and off
in passing flashes of early morning sun

mountain laurel
has clothed herself in blossoms 
once again
and we shall dance here
in the firelight
under a full moon in three days time
our drums will tell our heartbeat
back into the heavens
starlight reflected
from the Mother to the Sky

is never Complete
the organic moment subsides into the gaseous
rising pure as light
light as prayer
giving the poetry of herself
into the keeping of the future

© 2011 pamela twining

Thursday, June 2, 2011

tornado sky

when all the dreams take flight
one tangerine evening
racing before the wind
unknowing, uncaring
marmalade golden centers fade to dark
and the edges slice through uncreated pathways
realized visions laid waste
whirling like dervishes, smashing some lives
photo by daniel pagdon
leaving others intact
a dreadful mystery

and we have sown the wind
what shall we reap?
nightmares come and go
but dreams abide

© 2011 pamela twining

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

magic meadow


in a bowl of light

at the center of magic meadow

mountain laurel and i

exchange vows

alive in the Awesome Stillness

rushing water, birdsong and insect hum

are the enchanted voices of Spirit in the dawn

on sunday morning, too early for traffic

magic pathways are diamond-strewn

as infant green grasses raise beads of dew

glinting chips of shattered sunlight

in the early morning air

i think i must have been a pre-raphaelite

in another life

Nature stabs me to the heart

i cannot be numb

a dangerous thing

this Beauty


i share my poems

in the empty amphitheater

blossoming trees the only witnesses

and they applaud with silken susurration

of the breeze within the boughs

the stream laughs and sighs

in all the right places

and the songbirds tease me shrilly

with their competing liquid verses

poetry slam in the meadow

Beltane morning 5.1.11

© 2011 pamela twining

Sunday, April 3, 2011


it's sometimes hard to remember

when winter's cold arthritic talons will not open

when sorrow and exhaustion sap the soul

that like any seedling

it only wants the kisses of the sun

the release of the waters

from their secret winter journeys

the scent of new-turned earth upon the breeze

to bring the green nations forth

in all their richness

every shading of light and colour

nourishing the wizened spirit back

to sacred roundness

feasting on fruits now only dreams

of verdant gardens

and dreams sustain us

in a swirl of shared songs and earth's first fruits

and last

brought forth from hidden kitchens by loving hands

mindful of the Wheel of Life

turning ever turning

down to Darkness, back to Light

the rhythms of the universe echo in the laughter

in the fullness

of visions of the future shared around a fire

in the chill spring night

©2011 pamela twining