The Wind Is Blowing

The wind is blowing
and beautiful colored leaves
are falling through the quiet
light of fading summer
A last dance of color
before the inner stillness of winter
A closing celebration of form
before returning to the ground
to the sleep of winter

Treading the High Path

Treading the high path
where the angels sing
amid the brilliance of the sun's light
requires balance and strength
to find one's way
amid the shifting rocks of time
And sometimes one must close one's
eyes and walk on in the darkness
with only faith for a guide
and love as a shining beacon
in the distance

Like the Wind

Like the wind, i too
love to play with your hair
and dance in your eyes
and so sing with the trees
whose leaves like poems, are someday forgotten

And they nourish their mother
whispering
in subtle ways of death and decay
Yet speak with promise of beauty 
that is eternally flowing 
from form to form
beauty to yet deeper beauty.

Sparkling Depths of Beauty

Sparkling depths of beauty shining ...
so near yet far away
oh divine eyes ...
Dreams play on half-seen forms
And I bow my soul
in submission
to the wonderful mysteriousness of our
life’s water flowing together ....

The Dancing World of Ever New Joy

The wind flutters
catching leaves
rippling waters, dancing shadows
singing trees

Oh divine beauty, shining in all
in the movement of the light
we are one ...

The Wandering Sea

The wandering sea laughs
as she crosses the dunes
in wind-shipped white foam 
waves

I ride here in beauty
between shore and sea
in silence and sound
beyond time ...

Wind River Range 1991

The wind roars like a banshee
Flattening our tent in waves of anguish
Splattering raindrops against the wind whipped nylon

The whole world is in commotion
great heaving upthrusts of primal movement

And then silence
And the great blue sky opens up suddenly
and mysteriously like some unknown flower

And the sun shines on us coldly ....

Poetry ã 1985-2003 Peter Moffat 
Santa Barbara, California USA
Published by Creations in Consciousness

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