Morning Ritual

Source of Inspiration

Morning rituals establish the
pace of our days. I awaken to the
last hour of star glitter and deep
silence. Even creatures of the floresta
are quiet. My cup of tea breaks the
fast of slumber; I sit quietly and pen
words of promise as the words flow
effortlessly across the page.

Fingers of light begin to trace
the horizon, a tiny bird chirps the
beginning of dawn. My dew covered
feet walk the floresta path to the
pond where frogs plop into the water
at my arrival. My bench calls me
to sit quietly and watch the hand of God
paint the sunrise across purple skies.
I feel the presence of love, unconditional
and eternal. I feel blessed.

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Dark clouds

My Random Ramblings

It takes only a moment,
For nature to change its colours.
One moment, it's bright and sunny
And the next moment,
It can turn dull and overcast.
If observed keenly,
One can see the dark clouds
Approaching closer,
Far across the horizon,
Threatening to cast us in darkness.
The clouds follow the will
Of the mighty winds of change.
They follow the wind's biding
Without any protest.

The clouds swim across the sky
Casting the ground below,
In alternating patches
Of light and darkness.
The dark clouds may block its rays,
But the Sun never stops shining.
Though we rarely observe that.
The bright lining of the clouds,
Are the only proof
Of the majestic Sun's persistence.
The Sun doesn't give up the fight.
It lies in wait, biding its time
And shines even brighter,
When the dark clouds move away.

Just like nature, life, too
Can change in a…

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Endings – The New Beginnings!


Every ending day,
Nears a new beginning..
With birds flying back to their nests,
A new day waits for them to fly again…

So is the life,
Every drowning moment,
Prepares you for the worst that may lie ahead…
Giving you a chance,
To give your strength and capability a try…

Hold on a little more,
For every moment counts…
Bringing a drastic difference,
Your every effort pushes you towards your goal…

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Again – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon


Photo: Daisies at Leda Nature Reserve, Wialki

“For a seed to achieve its greatest expression it much come completely undone.” Cynthia Occe


In a moment, it seemed,
the daisies arrived,
bright, luminous and
alive in colour that 
lifted my heart,
I sat with them long
as they flourished until,
just as suddenly, 
they faded and died,
and I grieved their loss
wondering what it was 
I had forgotten,
but then, just as quickly,
I remembered,
they would rise again.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

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Oh That I Could Fly

Charmed Chaos

A fleeting flash of stark gray and white 
a pompous cocking of feathered tail 
as his melody dances on air

The forest is in awe of his vast repertoire
for the mockingbird can sing almost anything
as he remembers each note any bird croons

Flitting from limb to limb, serenading the trees 
flying from dense thicket to lush valley green
spreading his bright song of joy everywhere

Now a graceful waltz lingers as he takes wing
and from my ruby lips escapes a heavy sigh
As I whisper to the nascent breeze, 
Oh, that I could fly!

dVerse Poets Pub: Poetics- Flights of Fancy

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