@DailyWisdomWords poetry challenge…Resolution

My resolution this year is steeped in sadness

I want to return to the living in gladness

I want the pain and tears of rain to lessen

I don’t want to do any more second guessing

Reaching beyond the veil to touch your love

Is not the way to express what you dream of

Deborah A. Bowman Stevens

Angel
Angels dwell among us!

From my window…

All I see are brick walls enclosing me

Suffocating, restricting, imprisoning me

But on magical, misty nights

When the moon is bright

They fade away and disappear

Revealing wondrous new worlds near

And as such, I reach out and touch Divinity…

Deborah A. Bowman

 

The Book…

simple book
So much more than blank pages!

Open the page

Let in the light

Let yourself gaze

At all that is bright

The wisdom within

The happiness it brings

All the places we have been

Fit for Queens and Kings

A book is magic

On every page

Harmony and wit

Divine, wondrous, sage…

Deborah A. Bowman, bowmanauthor

Historical Questions

The Past and How It Affects the Future

Gone are the days of history…

by Deborah A. Bowman

Gone are the days of yesteryear.
Gone are smiles, miles, tears and fears.
We of the present can learn from history.
Those of the future will fulfill our destiny.
The past comes alive as sins and wins are repeated.
Triumphs are heralded; Foes are defeated.
If only we could stop the challenges.
If only we could heighten the balances.
It makes me wonder as I ponder,
If all on earth have wandered
These paths before in yesteryear
And have returned with our hopes and fears.
History repeats itself,
But we remain ourselves
Through thick and thin, but in different skins.
Reacting the same way as we begin
Lifetimes in new bodies, when we are given
A chance to redeem our numerous sins
Or spread truth and love, strong and sage,
As we enter life in a future age.
Will I live again
Or is this the end?

The poetry goes on… We will never die…

cropped-antique-quill-and-ink3.jpg
The power of the quill never dies

We worry the quill will dry out

The inkpot break or crumble to dust

We fidget, grumble, fear, shout!

But hush, hush; don’t rush…

Stand still, inhale the rich, warm fumes

That fill the air and allow words to bloom

Do not panic too soon

The poetry will sigh

We will never die.

Deborah A. Bowman

Borrowed Time…

You hear these two words quite often

Are they meant to soften

The inevitable?

The unpredictable?

The eventually?

The harsh reality?

So many questions and no answers to be found

So we ponder and wonder…

Maybe we’re not living on “borrowed time”

Maybe we’re meant to be!

Destined to see…

Blessed to spend our lives

In the beauty of strength and drive

To become more than just “killing time”

Deborah A. Bowman

 

 

 

 

 

Remembering…

    You dare for a moment to hope that you see
    The hint of a glimmer at the end of a tunnel
    Then, quick as a shimmer of lightning can be
    A memory surfaces and funnels
    Into your happy place
    You look in the mirror at your own face
    It is  troubled, sad, distraught
    No matter how hard you’ve fought
    To get beyond this hurdle
    Your beliefs sacred and fertile
    You feel you should be beyond this
    But you’re lost once again in a phantom’s wish
    Remembering…
woman looking at mirror
hoto by Jennifer Murray on Pexels.com