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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

 

In the Last Green Hours



The Earth dreams
this devout forest
and if I'm paying attention,
me as well.

Couriers of peace;
shields against the torpedoing sun;
billowing villages full of swallows,
finches, cardinals, wrens and
the reverent jay:

You were always here like
the air and the rainó
a backdrop to all our
breathless living.

Don't the pillagers know this
as they chew through centuries and
mist-scented towers and
the joy we become and
send them sprawling,
statuesque and glistening,
to our deaths?

Please, don't take these.
I'll stand here like Saint Michael
against the infernal legions
and guard them till
some distant, quivering dawn
brings reason and they'll live,
yes, perhaps another hundred years
or more, they'll live.

A jay watches from the vantage point
of knowing there is nothing left
but now.

Dear exalted one,
Your Eminence:
Don't you hear my jackbooted
world closing in?
Where will you go, you with the nest
of celestial songs, you with wings like
postmodern art?

She stares at something I cannot see.

In perfect trust,
she loves her life.


Patricia Joan Jones





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