Play with the Moon

Lance Lamons

Description

A unique collection of new age poems that is sometimes moody, uplifting and mysterious that are anchored from deep within the author's heart.
"I love clouds that I can almost touch." This sums up something so grand, something so above us and yet so near we can have the experience now if somehow, we can awaken to it. Weaved in and out of these lines there is a view from up there, an attitude from up there that conveys the aliveness of all things in nature. Nature, and truly all things, are waiting to be companions and friends.
Smiles are the most magical of all things. There is wisdom carried with them when they are sincere. But how do you really convey some idea like that? It is a mystery. My greatest hope is that this book leaves you with a smile that knows God's blessings in all things.
I never wrote these poems of myself but rather they are expressions I received during long periods of quiet. Then I wrote down what I could convey to share with you. There is much hidden, awaiting your surprise. It certainly was a gift given, to which I abound with abundant gratitude.

Sujets

• Poetry

Informations

• Publié par: AuthorHouse
• Date de parution: 21 juillet 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781665565141
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

Play with the Moon
 
A Collection of New Age Poems
 
 
 
 
 
 
Lance Lamons
 
 
 
 

 
AuthorHouse™
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.authorhouse.com
Phone: [phone]
 
 
 
 
 
 
© 2022 Lance Lamons. All rights reserved.
 
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
 
Published by AuthorHouse  07/21/2022
 
ISBN: 978-1-6655-6513-4 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-6655-6512-7 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-6655-6514-1 (e)
 
Library of Congress Control Number: 2022913207
 
 
 
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
 
 
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
 
Dedicated to my beloved wife, Patricia, who without her gentle urgings this book would not be possible and who’s twinkle has made many a star jealous.
 
As you, our Beloved spins your a cts of love in every way you know, this is the Garden you have been seeding on earth for thousands of years. Now you have the wisdom to see the fruit of y our seeds that you have planted, and so i t is. —Visionary Artist Rosie Laz zeri
Contents
Introduction
Part 1 — Trumpets Sound
It Is Given
Play with the Moon
Impressions
Child of Time
Ocean of Soul
You are Made in Heaven
On the Wings of an Angel
Shining Star
Was it You?
An Artist View
To Capture
Power
Carried Away
Apart from Love We Live Alone
The Cloud
Ridge Walker
Invisible Touch
Angels Singing
Hearts of Winter
Divine Wink
A Wisp of Life
Love in Denial
Whispers of Spirit
The Seedling
Bells Ringing
Love Knows
My Sweet Love Dreams
Earth Loves Me Plenty
Every Man is a Poet
Eyes of Kauai
Betrayal
Glimpse
Myth of Self
To Have or To Keep
The New Poet
Out of the Sand Box
Meant for Each Other
Friend, Companion and Lover
Knowing You
I Came Upon a Day
Flame of Spirit
Moonbeams
Diamonds Dance
Secrets of My Soul
A Walk in Time
Neon
Intertwined Hearts
Path to Young
Little Brother Moon
Momentous Reality Check
Up The Ladder
What Might Be
What Unites Our Fate?
The Racing Stars of Universe
Blue Faced Race Under Green Stars
Sounds of Trumpets
Part 2 — A Knock on the Door
Twilight Man
A Knock at the Door
Amazed!
A Talk with Death
A Melancholy City
Awake in Death
Mystery Dance
Sowing Deeds
Princess
Into the God Self
I Am with her Always
Leavin’ this Place
Rise in Darkness
Day Rivers Passing
The Interviewer
What Creature Am I?
Spirits of Death
Spirit Arise
Cosmic Death
Peek into Eternity
 

Introduction
In one of my poems I write, “A bully bluish full moon… As one large eye staring”. This is my way of conveying feelings that address a presence in the mystery of creation. That presence or mystery is alive and aware in and through everything and therefore that mystery can be touched or connected with. I don’t believe for a moment that this is limited to good experiences or to nature but is possible in all things.
Really, what it comes down to is, can man or woman sense anything without using the body or brain? Is there anything else to life? I believe there is and I believe I have had that experience. But that experience can’t be explained with a few words or even a billion words. However, with words, arrangements, rhythms, drawings, music, voice tones, and other mixtures you can begin to get a hint of what is trying to be conveyed.
This is not just one particular feeling or one experience but rather many that accentuates as one. Yet, that one whole mystery can express itself in a moment of experience. To me poetry is a perfect way to express that feeling of connecting with an invisible presence.
With me poetry begins with silence. An idea comes out of that silence that somehow connects with a hidden feeling I had during some particular experience. I then pick up a pen and without knowing exactly what to say I begin to write. The joy of poetry for me is found in the natural flow of inner dialog that spills forth with unexpected wonder as it forms to become a compete insurgence of idea. Being able to hear words and ideas that lie just beyond the grasp of the mind, that is, without any conjecture or manipulation to instigate the poem, is the beginning of that natural flow. Many times, as the poem begins, I wonder what the body will convey, it’s often a surprise. The end is the greatest because it always catches me off guard; I rarely see it coming.
This is itself an experience of that inner mystery in man. Creativity is an expression of some invisible force because we don’t know where it comes from. But we do know it doesn’t just come from the brain. I’m sure many would argue that point. There are ways of writing poetry without using this method, however, I think it is obvious which poems come out of the depth of the soul.
Some will be able to receive a shared experience through my writings and others will not. So it is, that this book is for those who can. I can only hope that it will inspire others to seek that inner surprise and express it.
Part 1

Trumpets Sound
It Is Given

The Vine does not eat its own grapes
Yet its wine is available for all who would partake.
For we are no longer ruled by the stars
But now we are caught up in the love of God,
No longer destined by the predictions of men
But now bound up in our own Soul,
Now able to give all good things.
This Tree being spirit gives fruits of life
And the seeds thereof grow into joy.
These waters being truth flood the earth
Filling all with your foreverness.
Play with the Moon

Did you know? That I was talking to the moon the other night?
But it was you, O moon, who incited the conversation
(While I was just watching.)
As you peeked out over the top of the clouds,
Showing only a sliver of your illumined head,
Peering at me with the antics of a playful kitten.
I had noticed you prior, hiding in the blackness,
But your countenance was shining above; and I saw.
In what seemed an eternity you slowly, O so slowly,
Rose above the darkness.
With minuscule movements in infinitesimal moments,
Did you rise.
Yet truly it was only an instance,
When the fullness of your face was revealed.
What were those first words she spoke?
I can hardly remember.
It was as if words themselves were somewhat insignificant,
Or at least incidental.
It was more of a feeling that transpired in our
communication,
It was more of a stream of spirit flowing between us.
Ah yes, and now I remember her words.
It was “Friend” she whispered,
With a smile. Not a smile you see on her lips,
But a smile seen only in her eyes.
 
Now she removed her veil
And I beheld the richness of her beauty
As the clouds danced around her
And a midnight star twinkled with delight.
(They being aware of our game.)
“I can touch you but you can’t catch me.” She teased.
“Come a little closer if you dare.” I taunted.
Quickly I reached out with my spirit,
And swiftly she dashed behind another cloud.
I heard her chuckle and I burst with laughter.
“Come, tell me your secrets” I said
“The whole world anticipating since the beginning.”
(I was thinking now is a good time to ask?)
Suddenly, I heard a voice from behind the thunders
“I have not kept my secrets from the earth”
Now only her belly shone through
“They are forever written across my forehead.”
“Yet, who will talk with me?
And not just talk at me.
Who will play with me?
And not just look and wonder.
I have always shared myself with mankind,
But they just stare and walk by.”
 
Now, much was said and much traversed,
As we entertained with foolery and frolic into the night,
And I learned many of her secrets,
With the promise that I would not reveal them.
(Not that I could.)
So, if you wish to know,
Don’t wish upon a star.
If you want to know,
Play with the moon.

Impressions

Imagine my heart beating,
As it is beating,
And my soul standing erect,
As it is erect.
Viewed as a sparrow in flight,
Though I see not through her eyes
The flutter of wings I do feel.
Again, in the budding of a rose,
Though I am unable to move her,
The unfolding of petals I do know.
Imagine my presence
Gazing upon you,
Ethers giving rise in my eyes,
Warmth emanating and enveloping you.
That presence knowing you,
As it does know you,
Enwrapped in your truth,
As I know it is the truth.
And my footprints are stories of life,
Not to judge size, yet distinct impressions,
As if to tip toe past the forbidden.
Then your footprints tell legends of integrity,
Not to restrict shape yet no other with that imprint,
As if quietness not to disturb those who sleep.
 
I am inviting you to peer inside,
To touch that untouchable,
To feel the