The Humanity of Words

A computer will never take the place of a human wordsmith/editor. Robots and artificial intelligence cannot duplicate the true emotion that lives in the connotative nuances of words. Only the heart and soul can breathe life into black-and-white ink splotches on a crumbled page which will become art, drama, perception, persuasion, and pre-cognition. It is our history, our current timeline, and our future. The human brain and Universal mind produces words that sing, inform, rejoice, or weep; sometimes, most often heard in the silent pauses between descriptive utterances of voice and breath.

Hence, the philosophy of one lone humble poet and writer, “bowmanauthor/bowmaneditor”.

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Fickle Inspiration

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Fantasy Inspiration

I see the trinkets that surround me

But do I really see?

These are so precious to me

They inspire and capture my creativity

But not today

I have no words to say

But those that get in the way

My inspiration does not shine

In silence I seek the divine

And all will be well in time

My Annie doll will speak her mind

And tell me of her trip from Ireland

When she came alone to Ellis Island

The castle will sing its tune, the dancer spinning

And a new story will be beginning

To weave its way into my soul

The faerie pixie will rise and flow

Through ancient dreams and glowing scenes

Dancing on the sun’s rays, amidst the colors of the rainbow

The Kindle will light with fire: reds and yellows; golds and blues

I’ll slip on my glasses so I can see true

The beautiful forests and haunted hills

I’ll experience thrills and wills and chills

As a new world comes alive inside my brain

Some of you may think me insane

As the keyboard beckons and calls my name

Not all the words have gone up in flames

I just had to write them to know their game

Of hide and seek, catch me if you can, find me if you dare

The words will scatter unless you show them you care.

NOW THE STORY LOST IN TIME…

HAS RETURNED TO SPARKLE AND SHINE!

Deborah A. Bowman

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Where Did I Go Wrong?

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Shadowed path in sunlight

Okay, life is tough

Complicated, complex, rough

It’s supposed to be

How can we see

Where we lost our way

Unless we find out where we went wrong?

Here’s to finding life’s path; be strong!

Deborah A. Bowman

 

 

 

Winter Wonderland…

Snow nestled in silent hills

Silence in the frozen chill

Awake to the dawn of a wonderland

Beneath a sky painted by nature’s hand

Your whispered breath on the window pane

Mist of tears in your eyes gain

Momentum, then fall in heaves and sighs

You want to share the heightened emotion

But all that you see is your  own devotion

He would have loved the snow

For he had no where to go

Now he dwells at heaven’s door

Asking nothing, feeling the cold no more

Deborah A. Bowman

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What’s on the inside?

 

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Are you caught on a surreal bubble?

What’s inside and what’s ouside?

Sure makes for a tumultuous ride!

What is up and what is down?

As you’re spinning all around

Looking inside yourself through a surreal bubble

Are you okay? Are you in real trouble?

Or have you split in two?

I think the dilemma is that you don’t know who…

You are … when you face yourself enclosed

In the psyche of another, the other

As the bubble grows…

Grief is like a rose

Be warned of the thorns

 

 

 

 

 

Beauty in nature

We find ourselves lost and alone sometimes

We don’t know how to cope

But that which combines

Beauty and hope

Can calm and heal the mind

Strength lies in the beauty of nature

We are never alone when we allow God to nurture

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Into the darkness… (to be continued)

Into the darkness, 6-1-18I want to apologize to all the wonderful people whom I have not seen their blogs in the past few days, few weeks. As soon as my sight returns, I will have a field day of catching up!

With empathy, Deborah A. Bowman

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Photo by George Becker on Pexels.com

Thanks to photographer George Becker for the amazing cloud cover above…

Social Media is Global

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The world seems like such a big place, but social media has brought us together to touch each other’s lives

And what have we found out?

We’ve found out that we’re so much alike … We guide; we strive;

We laugh; we cry; we dream; we scream; we follow our own route…

But now we know we’re not alone

We never were…

It doesn’t matter our age, youth or grown

We all want our voices to be heard

That’s all…

We know someone listens if ever we should fall

Or celebrates with us when we stand tall

Deborah A. Bowman, March 26, 2018