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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

 

Web of Infinity




After our personal hurricanes
and all the inner banter
that sounds so true
in this borrowed life,
the world is still here
and in love
with itself,

and look, it has
presented me with the
sanctified spider—
a parable in the body
of nightmares,
and sizzling with the
joy of being
where it is in
gathering of the small
and the brief—
truly the most blessed—

and it catches more
than what can be seen
in those trickles of
liquid pearl:
the first dream catchers
of the Chippewa nation.

Wheel of satin death,
Emblem of forever:
take the last of my
buzzing doubt,
whose name is mortal,
snag all that pretends
to matter,
till finally,

I remember:
Our flame was lit
by a greater flame,
our star fell from an
endless sun,

all one boiling universe,
one collective seizure
of birth and death
and birth . . .
one web,

like the river with its
living glass
unwinding
into lakes and seas
and mists with
memories of past lives
reeling in
shattered blue . . .

Dear dancing net of
the ancients,
strands of silver knowing,

take the wild parts that
still believe in illusion,
take the particles of fear
posing as a universe,

take all of me
till I am
everything.


Patricia Joan Jones





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