Tag: Dawn

CRY OUT TO THE HEAVENS

On By Dennis McHaleIn #Art, #cantdonothing, #childhood, #compassion, #death, #depression, #dreams, #fantasy, #holy, #individual, #love, #savetheworld, #suffering, #thewinterbitesmybones, #twitter, #WordPress, #wordpress, Art, Beauty, color, Depression, Family, Friends, Friendship, gmail, hero, Humanity, Inspiration, life, Love, Motivational, Poem, Poems, poet, Poetry, Poetry Writing, Relationships, Relatonships, Speaking, The Winter Bites My Bones, WordPress, WritingLeave a comment


by D.L.McHale, Sept., 2021

i.

Two sparrows
beneath the hand
of fate –
does the omniscient eye
behold need
or does it blink
and look away?

ii.

Life offers choices…
to accept the solace of belief
in a benevolence
that oversees;
or to know the loneliness
of your singularity
in a vast universe.

iii.

A guiding hand
that shelters,
that traces a path to follow
is security;
yet the soul is strong
who charts his own course
through infinity.

iv.

Cry out to the heavens
and listen long
for an answer
that does not come…

except in the heart
of the believer

The Gray by D.L.McHale

On By Dennis McHaleIn #Art, #compassion, #depression, #dreams, #suffering, #thewinterbitesmybones, #twitter, #WordPress, Art, #Art, #Gallery, #Open Submission,, Depression, Humanity, life, Loss, Love, Poem, Poems, poet, Poetry, Relationships, The Winter Bites My Bones, Uncategorized, Woman, WordPress, WritingLeave a comment

8_jpg_CROP_original-original
Painting by Richard Tauschman, 2015 ©

Again the dawn is drawn as gray
amidst design of dream.
That is to say the wall’s become
more ashes than of cream.

Request, I did, a paint’s renew
to warm a darkened room,
entrusted monetarily
for light to thrill the doom.Perhaps designer’s relevé
became black’s dance with white,
a while to beam my dream of cream
into a fainted night.

And so it is this mix, this stain,
awakens dawn’s portray
and sends, as if the heart of Man
to gray… to gray… to gray…

Best in Morning

On By Dennis McHaleIn Motivational, Poetry, Relationships, Uncategorized, Writing4 Comments

Image
I love you best in morning…

In that quiet hour
before the sun fully rises
and the shadows of the night
linger possessively;
as I lie motionless
beside you
watching
the seductive blush
of a new dawn
filtering slowly through
the frosted windowpane,
caressing you in those last
moments of sleep
with warm fingers of light.

It is in that
special time,
that magic time of morning
as I, too, caress you
with my eyes
and with my thoughts
that I love you
best

 

An Eternal Sunrise

On By Dennis McHaleIn Poetry, Uncategorized1 Comment

The sunrise is eternal –

Our measured days are not.

Yet still somehow in this moment now,

I am lifted beyond mortality;

baptized by this burnished dawn

and set afire with daring possibility.

 

All too soon, the damp, cold earth

will grip us by the ankle

and pull us downward.

 

This morning is not that day.

 

Heaven ascends before my eyes,

kissed by the reflection of amber rays.

My heartbeat echoing the foaming surf

while prayers dance among the murmur

of winged clouds in dawn’s soft pastel light.

 

The world spins round.

 

This is my temple,

and my soul, shrouded in the rolling fog

of a new day, is lifted upon salted winds.

 

I slip the bonds of my earthly servitude

and ascend upon the gilded rays of a new day –

lifted gently like a newborn in a mother’s warm embrace.

 

Best in Morning

On By Dennis McHaleIn Poetry, Uncategorized2 Comments

I love you best in morning.

In that quiet hour
before the sun fully rises
and the shadows of the night
linger possessively;
as I lie motionless
beside you
watching
the seductive blush
of a new dawn
filtering slowly through
the frosted windowpane –
caressing you in those last
moments of sleep
with warm fingers of light.

It is in that
special time,
that magic time of morning
as I, too, caress you
with my eyes
and with my thoughts,
that I love you
best.

Awakening

On By Dennis McHaleIn Poetry, Uncategorized1 Comment

 

 

 

 

In the morning shadows, pine trees sway
As the ocean coats each with spray
The sun arises and warms the shores
The moistened wind blows no more
The creatures of the night within their lairs
And the moon and stars prepare the stairs
Awakening, I take it in
Another poem, I write again.