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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

Nucleus

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

Gossip

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

Archibald

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

THE WOLD LIKE THIS!

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

 

The Sound of Creation


In the new moon
I heard the other
side of silence:

Nothingness rising
to the summit of all
there is.

It was born in this
furnace of giddy emptiness:

one note,
one dot of blinding knowledge
against the aimless void,

a diamond on ebony,
a new life spinning out of
a blind forever,

spraying shattered crystal,
then waves of sun and moon
and everything precious,
falling and rising
and sculpting . . .

music.

And worlds.

And all that is unknowable,
unreachable and perfect
is contained in rhythm,
the web we get lost in
on our way to infinity.

Clothed in a night
dripping stars,
I heard the ancestral drums:

Heaven's floor was just a stage
for the heartbeat
crashing to earth
then back to where we came from,

and all the answers were there,
but life stood between us:
just one short life and
one illusion between me
and understanding.

In the waterfall I heard
the ancient strings,
the first of many worlds
and the first notes
the river learned
in a burst of unbearable love,

now wandering in song,
now endlessly born

in the beginning
and the end of time.


Patricia Joan Jones





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