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Unforgiven Rapture

Now That You Are Infinite

Transcendence of Fury

What Little I Know

One With the Never-ending

Earthbound Supernova

The Majesty of Destruction

In the Infinite Now

Why We Love Dogs (A Little Something in Celebration of National Dog Day)

Postcards from Eons Past (Images from the James Webb Space Telescope)

Sanctuary of Flame

Microcosm

Glistening in the Dark

Walnut

On the Trail Between Orchids and the Otherworld

Words Like Smoke and Sand

The First Iris

The Totality of You

Winter Meditation

The Language of Wonder

Storms of Jupiter

Digital Chains

Plunging to Heaven

On the Shores of Cepheus

Why We Love Dogs (A micropoem)

Ascension in Gold

Crucible of Light

In the Last Green Hours

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

 

What Little I Know




Autumn is
savory incense:
some sort of floating spice
inside my head.

The change devours me
and I want it to,
need it to,

change everything.

After being close to death
there was, for a while,
an impossible rest,
all glitter and mist.
Nothing was too serious to fear
and nothing was serious enough, so
somehow I knew hope would
hunt me down no
matter where I landed.

That's the promise
of believing,
I mean, the
promise of
knowing.

The sky is one
operatic note,

a single shade of
clarity,

an inside-the-sapphire
blue.

Give me another dose
of that knowing—
a calm refined by age,
pious as the buck
rippling through
the shadows.

Though rambling like the
adoring template of Creation
and out of reach when
the heart slams shut,

Truth is always here
in the light and the dark,
in reason
and in madness.

It's the angel-speak
above the brawling chorus,

the unmoored moon
dragging too many secrets

and all that they told me
love was.

So what do I know?
Only that I know very little—
perhaps just a vain
blink in the void,

and that's fine,
I'll take it,

all is well

when the Source of
all wisdom
is here.


Patricia Joan Jones










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