Surrender

surrender to the heaven,
of your soul-
holy place of grace and rest,
silence soothes your weariness-
I who lay with empty hands open,
to hold the peace within-
giving it without,
no boundaries or lines-
to make or cross,
or right or wrong,
belongs to the lifting-
of your heart here,
light and feather like-
in a whispering prayer,
your song becomes clear-
what belongs in the,
warmth of glow-
bringing heaven to your soul,
its in the pause of stillness-
that calms the raging,
the aching,
the pain of a hundred tears,
and you can come to this place-
in field or temple,
when you are able-
to take this space into,
endless time giving-
breath to breath,
upon the exhale-
in relief of all that tries,
to fold in on you-
in this moment you hold heaven,
for within you-
heaven holds you.

Author Maureen Kwiat Meshenberg © 

Summer

the flush of your,
summer radiance-
draws me to resting,
in your brilliance-
what parallels,
my rapturing desire-
to fall into your light,
yet resisting-
holding tight,
to my uneasy-
it sits with me,
as it tries to reason with me-
welcoming me to melancholy,
but knowing that-
the folding tides of time,
heals the wound-
that tries to split open,
again and again,
what is revealed so deep-
what is brought to bleed,
spills out and releases me-
to ending,
to beginning,
to my right of passage-
I hold the passion of your luster,
as it blazes across my waiting sky-
your incandescent beauty,
intentions revealing,
no more concealing,
surrendering to,
touching with arms held high-
the light of your radiant healing.

Author Maureen Kwiat Meshenberg © 

Morning

lost in the fragrance of morning,
the settling of dew upon summer’s rest-
what stirs the quiet waiting,
of the songbird’s voice-
above the dim of night,
into streams of light-
shadowing the dark,
with movement of orange upon blue blending-
it all seems new again,
it takes me to my living-
breathing morning in,
as if for the first time-
holding the miracle of its opening,
quiet hush unfolding-
into the song of life rising.

Author Maureen Kwiat Meshenberg © 

Happy Fathers Day

Happy Fathers Day to my Brother Henry and my son Joseph

Wedding

Let it come

don’t lay your soul,
in the field of broken dreams-
it isn’t always what it seems,
what’s keeps you-
in this wasteland is dying,
keeping you from who you are.
what creates the crevices,
that makes you fall so deep,
it’s hard to keep-
your eyes on your rising horizon.
do not hold yourself,
to your place of shattering-
though you may weep,
love reaches in-
with more than the reasons you,
try to hold as your anchor.
love fills the gaps,
that overlaps-
between memory and yesterday,
lean into today, what is here-
right now.
let it come to,
bring you completion-
life never comes the way-
you think it should,
what bends the path-
away from your past,
takes you to who you are.
come from your brokenness,
from your groundless falling-
to movement of love-
through your soul,
it will come with light-,
to your eyes with inward waking,
lifting you up,
when you feel forsakened.

Author Maureen Kwiat Meshenberg ©
Artist Helena Wierzbicki

Closeup

Forgive again...

Donna

Peace