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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


Into the Silence

The night sky
could almost kill me
with its weight of
of blindness and
so much time and
space and
erupting stillness
falling to a
world never ready
for real secrets,

each star an epoch
encased in
crackling ice,
each an ancient death
too beautiful
to interpret—
one way to be immortal.

I must have been born
a thousand times
in whirling moments
stranded in that
wild and hissing

and still, some say
this is all
there is . . .
such captivity
to live in only
what can be seen.

The ant on his planet
of mountains and monsters
believes this is the world.
Also the fish in his
glassy dream.
Also the private cyclone
of the hummingbird—
in its frantic galaxy
it has only
the color of sweetness
to live for.
Also humanity,
believing we are
these bodies we
explore in,

so convinced this
magnificent and
terrifying cage around us
is all we can touch
and good enough.

So where is this vastness,
not beyond,
but within,
and everything . . .
and so much more
than we ever imagined?

Just a turn of
a thought,
a silk thread
of a prayer,
a dusting of something
once believed
and forgotten,

and here it is:
the door, the silence,
the Light, the bliss,

God's hand.

Walk through
and greet
the universe you are.

Patricia Joan Jones

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

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