OUR HISTORY, OUR VOICES PROJECT
The Dorothy Barkley Bryson Exhibit
About Her Exhibit…
I am inspired by the wonders of Spiritual encounters and scientific discovery, by Nature, by Peoples, and by the remarkable diversity in every element of life. My writing is a reflection of what I see and especially the way I see it and is a celebration of the Oneness echoed throughout all creation. Shortly before I retired I began writing the book I’ve been thinking about all of my life.
Publishing through a website I call findingmyreal.com seemed a good way to begin. First, it is an accessible format and second, I really knew nothing about creating a blog – and I love to learn. For me, supporting women is about celebrating them in their work whatever it is and wherever they are.
Finding – because life is about continually seeking and discovering. Real — because I want to discern the authentic, the genuine, the true. I aim to discover the deepest part of my soul, the beingness of the heart, and in my own finding, I wish to encourage others to find their own peace in the divinity of Now.
This piece was written one night when the Moon woke me up with a sacred charisma of silver brightness. While most of my writing is in prose format, sometimes – for me – only an unmetered poem conveys the mystery of Life.
I sing a lullaby in moonlight
Melody to sighing trees
And starlit sky
Darkness that doesn’t haunt
Wind that cools
No clouds now
But deer crunch fall’s old leaves gently as they follow forest trails worn visible by
instincts older than time
And the phantom of the owl I do not see, but whose presence I know,
perceived by her silent glide
That old tree is creaking
It’s going to fall some day soon
Her sister-trees whisper in mirrored echoes
“It’s okay. Fall to Earth Mother. We are here
to catch you.”
There is clarity in the shadows of a full moon night
Even as reality hides ~
as Reality and Truth so often do
There are no colors exactly
But not black and white either
Rather, moonlight hints of colors I know so well by day
The sky almost blue, the grass almost green
Memory tricks my eyes to see color illusions
I am sleepless, awake as the midnight moon called
Feeling Earth Mother spin towards morning
As I sit, safe on my porch
Part of me is ready to curl up again in the warmth of my bed nest
But that star in the Northeast winks at me just at the tree top
So I linger still
Called by breezes to
Sing this night
I know all the places the moon can hide
Connect with Dorothy Barkley Bryson »
Website: https://www.findingmyreal.com/ | Instagram: @Dorothy_Barkley_Bryson
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