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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


Your Song in the Ivy

How should I greet you,
yesterday's joy,
draped in vines that are
lyrics without sound,

something about letting go
without calling it a death,
but the doorway to life . . .

You gave me some idea of how soft
the love of God must be.

And that was too much to ask of a cat.

Now all I can give you is lacy rain
and your ivy bed with its
nourishing green song
and the scent
of spice and holiness.

Just for today I will
be like the clouds
that are swallowed in stillness,
then appear somewhere else
because change is the one
thing they do,
so they do it
with everything they areó

simmering dragons, misty potential,
unformed worlds.

Yes, like that.

The music of your sleep is unbreakable,
heavier than the marble storm
that splits the western sky
into angels and doom.

If I could do only one thing,
in this moment,
it would be to love
the shadows
as much as the light,

till light is all there is.

It's all so clear through
a veil of rain.

I pick some violets,
dripping with desire that
their short lives be more
than jewels and

and place them on your
glistening stone.

They are broken, then formless,
then cleansed.

Patricia Joan Jones

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

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