Reflections on a Conversation with a British New Ager

 Bright tryst and lover’s mist
 he grasps with his mind.
Spiritual, he says,

connected,
one with the universe,
just a child of love,

declaring I AM god
with a little “g” and there
is none with a capital

except one made
in human minds,
and the pronoun HE

is inadequate to describe
the maker of the sunset
which was us, then,

before we put on flesh suits
and wallowed in neediness.
So, I ask him,

“Why is it so hard to believe

in The Great Spirit who loves?”

His answer: vague,
dubious, no up or down,
no absolutes, he says.

I think it is because
if he knows
God to be God,
then, he, the “spiritual one”

is no more enlightened
than the rest of us

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

loving muse,

has it been so long since i heard you?

stilled outside noises and inside voices

to listen to your spirit whispers?

i need to walk the fields again

feel your touch on my skin,

your presence inside

and outside my soul.

people say

too many irons in the fire.

i don’t remember building one

yet there it blazes

so now, i look for you,

listen for you,

to peck at my window,

beckoning me,

come out, girl. come out.

 

knowing of tornadoes in sister states

dance in this rose day sun

scented with fushia blooms

and locust perfume

 

feel wind’s fingers

through chestnut locks

and hear her sweet songs

in newborn maple leaves

 

for somewhere else

her anger left homes 

in splinters and children buried

in rubble

 

 

Quiet, a poem

POETRY SHALL RETURN TO THIS BLOG

Hi, everyone. This blog has offically been reverted back to an all poetry site. I have set up a separate site and blog for my alter ego, the sci fi writer. http://www.wandadarlenecampbell.com

or check out the blog at http://www.nintuchronicles.wordpress.com

 

And now, without further stalling, a quick poem, just to see if I can still write one!

QUIET

For a moment of it

I would stay up until midnight

and wake at dawn

everyday

for the rest of my life

 

or so I think

until I imagine a world

where I am alone.

 

 

 

Me Holding my New Baby

 

This was taken in my classroom Friday, and posted just because I heard you, Scot! Thanks so very much. 

My Novel is Now for Sale!

The book is done already, about two weeks ahead of what I anticipated!

It can be purchased from just about any place where you order books including amazon.com. Just go to amazon and type in “Dragon’s Heir” and Campbell and it should pop right up. However, they don’t have an image of it for some reason.

 

It can also be published quite easily from this link:

http://www.virtualbookworm.com/bookstore/product/dragons_heir.html

 

I PROMISE THAT AFTER THIS POST I’LL QUIT TALKING ABOUT MY BOOK [for a while at least] AND GO BACK TO POSTING POETRY. It’s just that I invested such a large amount of my time into writing it that it would seem like bad parenting not to promote it just a little bit. View me as one of those proud parents who won’t quit showing pictures of her baby.

 

Nochipa

 

 

On Sale in About Four Weeks

My Daughter

You love redbuds, dogwoods

and woodland iris,

flowers of spring,

time of your birth,

the birds and waters

of this brook,

the fern carpet

and lacey canopy,

with wood nymph

and fairy likeness

 

you skip these stones,

leaving behind your winter

and embracing

rebirth.

 

These brilliant looks at spring time in Appalachia are photos by my lovely, talented daughter. She has a simple camera but does wonderful things with it.

 

Sources of Inspiration

Ignore the dates…they’re all wrong! These apple trees are in full bloom NOW! The Forsythia and plums have waned but are still wearing a few colors.

End of Spring Break

 A week of earthworms

held in black soil,

craddled in my palm

and placed

where strawberries grow

and bulbs are buried deep

for mid-summer’s revival.

Tonight it rains.

Tomorrow

I leave Eden.