It’s how Love designs

Timeless—

spring arrives after winter

as the ice edges dissolve

at the rushing waterfalls--
where?

One follows another

and so with joy do bear

the stream of life-- now

snow on the plow

snow in the hair,

does to love it matter?

What has love

to do with time,

can Mind be battered?

The flow of tears

the flow of rivers

the flow of seasons

all purify

the mud

accumulated

by time, and its sludge

earth-bound … but

not of life and love!

Sweet and soft

she spoke

but he

sighs, and a tear of winter

broke.

A kiss of love offered

cloaked --

can it return? Yes!

Take the kiss and

drink 

the timeless nectar

of divinity--

its love

beauty

immortality

the ambrosia of soul

the perfume of love

to love and live!

It’s how Love designs

one and one 
and, one by one, to bind!

--eva-maria hogrefe

(October 2012)

I desire LOVE

I DESIRE LOVE

Prologue:

Your heart is beautiful

Because you desire Him.

I desire LOVE 

LOVE is God to me

You desire LOVE

LOVE is good to thee!

LOVE is good because

GOOD is God --

GOD is All

good

loving

kind

and our MIND

your strength and mine.

To desire Him

does not exclude 

the nightingale's song

the dewdrop on a rose

the blue bright sky --

the light 

that shines through YOU 

and His creation's might!

(October 2012)

On a rainy day

On a rainy day as we have today, 

a grey pall of moisture-laden air

the sky dark

cries

the winds blow around the block

the movements of thought we create

all day whistle 

harsh

no answer found within the lines

waxen and solemnly invisible

words

and so the dove flies back to its Arch

as do light-mantled sooties return

to their nests

beyond

hugging the cliff face not wrecked

but calm before the precipice

and then swing back

to the stillness

--of my heart!

--eva-maria hogrefe

(October 2012)

But what if

Dear Friend

… You are no part of a contemporary scene,

but warm and gentle, loving, poised

with thoughts bright, reserved, dignified

in mannerism and in style:

Ah, the pure stream has found

its path in the agelessness of

timeless qualities of joy, wisdom,

vitality, love and strength of mind!

Ask, what has “time” to do with beauty?

Is not Beauty a transparency found

alone in the splendor of Soul

and goes forth expressed in words,

gaze, and deeds, as a nobility

undefined,  … and unbound?

... I’m musing over paradoxes:

Of the notions of youth! How aged

some appear as if standing

before a scaffold, because 

the thought is sadly scorched:

it fears “old” and thus feels old.

Now, tell me, “What is this -- about?”

I’m pondering the bold design of God!

Could His blueprint be useless,

unfit to glow, unable within to grow?

Thought is creative!

What if a mind convinced

 of dark clouds hovering over

would make a belief come true?

... Did not Job say:

“The thing which I greatly feared

is come upon me” (3:25)?

Buoyancy, freshness, fullness of life,

these divine graces, which lift

the banner of agelessness high,

conquer self-destructive emotions,

and thus … making a life brighter and lighter,

and have a love for every youthful grace,

where within we find a greater delight

then counting every dark fear’s mace.

And earthly dreams broken: Justify

the love of Jesus for the Christ,

and the price he paid for our victories open …

--eva-maria hogrefe

(September 2012)

When you find Love, You will find yourself. ~ Rumi

The “I” as light as a feather,


Rising in the glow of the morning sun,


Up and up it goes, beyond the tether

Of fearful notions into an altitude where,

A joyous abandonment, wise and gentle,

Substantial as all the good put together,


The self in heavenly illumination --


At the astonishment of some,

And ministration – requests to withdraw
.

Selflessly it moves beyond 


The confinement of a minor place,

A tiny human mental space, to feel the bond

With the great “I am,” and therein 
An enlightened, inner world to contemplate,

The movement of a soaring,

Gliding spiritual thought, seen obedient,

Though to a mortal sense
Progress seems an impediment, thus boring …

Now the time has come

For thought resurrected

To enter the portal of Love, and

With ardent whisper, you’ll say:

“O Love, hold me in your healing embrace!”


On this, Dearest, meditate --

And surrender the self to Love’s ways.

--eva-maria hogrefe

(July 30, 2012)

A few notes:

I write free verse -- that means when I compose a poem I listen to the musical phrasing instead of the metronome, i.e., I’m in-tune with my own voice of rhythms, which will be my measure for composing, and … (a love of mine) adding the richness of metaphor.

Poets down the ages thought the gift of metaphor the most important.  … The best words in the right order and then the musical sound, the rhythm, but most important, the metaphor.

For me poetry is music in words, doors to step through, canvases to paint, or compositions of an inner melody to listen to … 

A poem can be a kind of conversation with itself, or the narrator the observer, not speaking only from experience but from observations life offers. 

Once upon a time, long ago ...

“Against the stormy gusts of winter’s day” … so young, just a little child, and yet all this to bare …

…………………………. .............................what was it that penetrated the darkness?
............................................................Light, ~~~~~  the Light that is Love!

Once upon a time, long ago, 
A man, he, my father, was told

His beloved mother

Had been buried alive.

His sister,

(A decade older than he),

Years after the War

When construction slowly

Rebuilt the city, was told

… … they …

Had found her remains 
In one of the bunkers

Where she had taken refuge

At a time of  bombardments

As Allies moved in

And with boulders strong, closed

Entrance for safety,

 … … thus …

In its stillness like a cave,

Raising upward her prayerful song ...

Did she know ...

She had taken refuge in a grave?

There, in a dark tomb, alone,
(I assume),

His mother suffocated,

And ... was gone.

My father inconsolable,

Kept it all alive within,

The pain was too great,

Thus under its burden he bends,

His grief unspoken -- he

Distraught without end!

Many years later, I, still a child,

Heard of the tragedy,

And I had my sorrow and trail

Of fears, pestering human belief,
Already aware of the mockery

Of mortal destructive deeds,

The merciless cruelties of all wars, 

Because fear is false and weak.

I know too little of her …

Only that from family

Recitals, of a warm, caring,

Generous, and kind woman …

My imagination was running wild,

Thinking of how she must have felt?

And it made me shudder.

O my trust in man, how it shattered!

I love the thought of Light,

Which for me within my heart,

Is LOVE and my God!

But how could I love

Mankind?

And then,

Ever so gently

I saw the light:

“All is given by God!”

It is He who is Love and Life!

Not misery and decline,

These are the distorted

Images of a blinded mankind,

Devouring its own

Mortality.

Then something in me said,

(A kind of revelation):

“God and His children

Are one!”

The light of this message so bright, 

That in Love and to Love

My heart replied,

And throbbing migraine headaches --

Like an unseen vault --

Full of mystery and fright,

…. Came down to a halt!

My father?

He too saw it all

In the light of a gentle

Resolve

Remembered

A mother’s great love,

And grief

Had to tumble and fall.

Love is the herald of peace --
Love and Life never stall!

--eva-maria hogrefe

(July 2012)