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
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
The Energy and Auras of Books
©by Deborah A. Bowman
My overflowing shelves of books
I love each one so dearly
Watching the energy released if I but look
At the shadows and auras sincerely
Etched upon my mind, capturing my heart
Ne’er allowing the mists of mystery and secrecy
To fade into nothingness, nor depart
Into the depths of dark obscurity
§ § §
My soul cries out in blissful urgency
To touch, to smell, to experience these works of art
Reaching within me, beyond me, around me
To create an atmosphere due in part
To what I can see, feel, and cherish
Tomes of rich bound leather will not perish
As my own essence, aura, and energy
Is altered by each story bestowing wisdom and legacy
On the collective super-consciousness of the Universe
Building a spiritual sanctuary to transverse
And live forever as infinity…
BowmanAuthor and Writer/Editor 