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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

 

Moving Past the Dream



Polaris reigns
in a house of tragic beauty,
pilots me,
like the ancient ones,
northward,
upward and inward,
but the weight of us—
all the years huddled behind us—
keeps me living inside you, even
on this night.

I want to see it
through your eyes
once again, to rise
out of our
withering memories,
to see God even in frail
branches, dripping
and writhing,

to radiate life like
the first light
on the first stirrings
of the world,
like on those days
I harvested
your adventurous love
as it alighted on
everything
and I swore you were
all my suns and moons . . .

for one borrowed season,
for one waking dream.

Now here on the feathery
outskirts of a lifetime—
too short to know you—
we dissolved into mirages
of yesterday
or spirits so familiar
that everything is said
before we speak
and words become
soulless echoes of the
conquerors they once were.

But now in my gilded
and hard-earned winter,
a new paradise comes down.
Everything true is here:
a new love, cloaked
and steaming on snowdrifts,
faint explosions to the
beat of a moon
that is equal to Heaven
but walks beside me,
and it's a romance
as real as roses
and other red clichés—
a soft and lonely fire
too regal for the earth,

a wispy gateway to
unbroken joy,
even long-lost power,
enough to fill these ancient
and never-aging arms.

Into the mirror of
everything of worth,
to every place, unexplored
and absolute and . . .
real,
I have, at last,
arrived.

Patricia Joan Jones






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