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Behind Walls of Data

In the Last Green Hours

Crucible of Light

Dogs (A micropoem)

The Angels of Hawksbill Mountain

Beyond the Gates of Orion

Sanctuary Within

The Sacred Opulence of Abundant Joy

Sitting With Stars

Light of the Tempest


Follow the Birdsong

Celestial Rite

One More Moon Beside Me

Legacy of Ash

Born in a Field of Light

Resurrection in Albemarle County

Dialogue With Silence

Moving Past the Dream

Deadly and Merciful Blue

Sky Full of Legends

On the Border of Earth and Being

Who You Really Are

Council of Stars

Scattered As One

Unfinished Bridge To the Infinite

Scenes from Within

Moon of Secrets

Memories of the Kingdom

In the Church of Ordinary Miracles

Finding Religion in Sperryville

Theater of Shadow and Light

Sapphire Birth

Web of Infinity

Voices from a Choir of Stars

Traveler in the Unseen

Into the Silence

A Soft Ascent

Through a Sacred Forest

Innocent Questions

On the Bridge After a Storm

The Sound of Creation

Your Song in the Ivy

Universe Within

New Empire

Another Afterlife

Where the Wind Lives

Another Kind of Prayer

Indigo Fire

Last Inch of Flame

Blue Home

Sacred Crone

What the Deer Understands

Some Water Lilies I Used to Know

Gates of Orion

Requiem for Yesterday

In a Moment of Understanding

April Snow

Symphony in Sable

Justice Denied


Graduation Day

Fire from a Distant Life

Frozen Retreat

Welcome Jack

Remembering Spring

A River's Chant

Shadows of December

Please Live

Unholy Love

A Silent Knowing

Morning Candle

A Multitude of One

Love is Now

Follow the Birdsong 2


Night of the Broken Glass, Revisited

Someone Else's Paradise

Canvas of Gold (A Tribute to Poetry Sites)

On the Edge of a Dead World

A Very Late Apology

It Is You

When Two Hearts beat as One


His Love will Sustain Us

His Love will Sustain Us

His Love will Sustain Us

His Love will Sustain Us

His Love will Sustain Us

His Love will Sustain Us


Remembering Spring

for my daughter

In a mausoleum of dozing trees
I imagine lemon balm and fairy-tale

This is the winter I have created.

Many years ago she was a chattering
woman in the making:
a blank page and everything and anything
and all she wanted
was one more tea party.

What is fifteen minutes next to a glacier
of time spent sprinting
after everything you now know
was everything?

You run and it runs faster.

The frozen ground hides the idea of earth.
You knew an easy life once
and you try to remember.

There's a phantom glimpse of joy
in that lone squirrel that reminds
me of freedom, but the space it fled
is locked in ice, paralyzed as
the nest of barbed-wire
branches all around.

Give me the spring my daughter screamed
when her cat offered her a
dead mole as a gift.
Give me dogwood blossoms like
her origami birds.
Give me morning glories like
the hope in her eyes.

February's clouds seem close to heaven:
mirror of our authentic self and
our runaway dreams in all directions.

Fatal and glorious, this cold.

Beautiful tyrant, I know you too well
and I've fought you too many
times before.

Sacred emptiness of now,
life after many lives,

what is fifteen minutes?

Patricia Joan Jones

2000 - 2002 Individual Authors of the Poetry. All rights reserved by authors

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