Category: Poetry

Box Fan Murmurs

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Sleep eludes me

And I begin to

Retrace memories,

Tasting the experiences,

Painting different outcomes,

Waiting for the light of day.

The box fan murmurs,

Playing the soundtrack,

Making melodies

For my mental album.

A 5-year-old shares my pillow.

Arms over my neck,

Legs thrown over me,

Soft snores and mumbles,

And the sweet smell

Of an innocent new life.

Where would I be

Without the presence of

These little ones

Loving me,

Holding me,

Healing me?

I toss every so often

Finding comfort in the now.

I trace over the past

Weaving it to all that is,

All that I’ve become as

The box fan murmurs…

“Let God. Let it go.”

I hear the melodies in the room.

The sounds of ancestral chatter,

Each whispering through

The cycling of the fan.

Life happens in this second,

During sleepless nights

As murmurs echo round and round.

Millie America 5/2022

My sweet baby boy passed out… I wish I was sleeping as peacefully as him.

Through the Wormhole

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I traveled a thousand miles

To be by your side

In the witching hours

Of cosmic journeying.

I watched you sleep

Cradling a body pillow

Tightly against your chest,

You breathing heavily

Penetrating

The covers,

But you couldn’t see me

Invisibly standing there….

So,

I returned to my side

Of the world

Guided by the light

Of the full moon,

Gliding and sliding

Through dimensions

Searching for my bed

Then awakening

To your smell wrapped Around my hands.

I love you…Millie

This So Far

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Four seasons have come and gone
With the breaking
As stumps are left in the distance
Resembling you and me.
It’s the end of winter
And the spring is filling
With rebirth all over.
A part of me knew
This wasn’t us,
But I couldn’t
Accept the changes.
I needed to mend my life,
Search for my sum,
And allow seasons to come naturally.
This much so far is me
Untouched but recreated
Through the passages
Of time here.
You won’t be celebrating me
But I toast to the new
Divine feminine awakened.
You must know this so far,
Even contemplate
The answers to all those questions
We pondered
With long conversations
Throughout heated nights.
I didn’t fit in your world.
This so far is mine
And I will never be back to you
As the woman I was
When I left.

Be My Poem

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Let your spirit fill me

With delicate expressions,

Dictating a romantic ballad,

Holding on to adjectives

Then…

Slipping from your tongue

In sweet rhythm

Cascading into my ears

As water folding over us.

Let your hands hold

Verbs and nouns,

Us as pronouns,

Beginning and ending

Tracing each line and space

Of my body

Cautiously placing

Each moment into silhouettes of pauses

And

Shading the imagination with

Tension, intervals and length.

Be my melody,

Reciting a sonnet, haiku, free verse

Until

The final closure,

An exclamation to end all words

With…

a…

deep…

sigh!

I love you…Millie

Remembrance

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Something woke again

after a long sleep of doubts,

anger, hurt and questions

that buried me in an open tomb.

I had forgotten my power,

the thoughts that co-create

with the Universal aid of intentions;

those same delicious frequencies

that magically take me here and there.

I had forgotten,

waking up with such joy,

that I skipped out of my room

while bones cracked and stretched

reminding me to slow down.

I don’t care.  This is the meaning of living.

This is the ebb of sorrow and joy

taking it all and pasting it back together

without giving up. 

It’s easier to give in,

give out, and forget.  No more!

I have been sleeping in such darkness

for too long and allowing no one

to turn on the light.

Clarity arrives with rest and prayer. 

I hear the ringing of truth in one ear.

I see the element of surprise ahead.

I taste the juices of excitement.

I smell the sweetness of success

for all that I have put out into the openness.

I’ve returned.

I am home in me again.

It’s been a long time…too long.

The heart echoes softly, “Welcome back!”

I love you…Millie

Tumbling

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I have a 1,000’s of poems in several thick binders. For decades I would write one to two poems daily…religiously. When I started this blog, I wrote more poetry than stories. The other day I was able to get into an old computer and found more. This one in particular hit me. My mind tumbled to the past. I had met a man who turned my life upside down and right side up. It was a short love affair that reminded me to love deeper without holding back. That it was okay. That I would be caught and loved in return. And like most intense love affairs, it took its course. Just by the date I knew exactly who it pertained to. Poetry is a music and art photo album for the soul. ❤️

Moments

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There are moments.
Experiences that test faith and belief,
Others that define love and compassion.
Some question purpose and reason.


These cracks create ripples in time,
forcing lifelines to determine feelings,
emotional disturbances,
and memories.

These increments of time can later be retrieved,
picking and choosing
the special ones.


Some will ache through space and time,
while others bring tears of joy
transporting the past to right now.


There are many moments,
millions of particles in the heart
allowing for growth,
truth, lessons and stories.


Pick them wisely
while allowing the Divine
to be the guiding light
through the journey back to you.

You will always return right back awareness.

~Millie America

Inside Spirit

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We fear succeeding a lot greater than fearing failure.  We have been programmed in the expectation of failure.  When it happens, we immediately tell ourselves, “Well I knew that was going to happen.”  Those words are the driving force into failure. Succeeding requires that we step into the unknown. Inside of you are all the answers. Continue to co-create your reality. You get to manifest the life you desire!

There’s a vastness,

hollowness,

waiting to be discovered,

uncovered through lack of substance,

control or restrictions.

It is in this space

that one’s bulk reaches

the core

of who and what we are

while not feeling the need

to fill it constantly.

I used to wait

for a miracle of another

to create a fullness

that was never meant to be an external

or internal source of dimension.

And, in this spaciousness

the universe lies completely

sheltered by spirit,

engulfed by expansion of cosmic energy.

I am alone, but not of loneliness.

I am empty, but not of vacancy.

I am light, but not over-exposed.

The range of all is infinite

as we can all meet any time

through the everything of life.

Let go of the illusion,

diminish the fear,

and travel through the light of love.

A touch from you opens the portal.

A word ignites our immortality.

A look exchanges the energy to all humanity.

We are here together.  We are always connected.

Be mindful that you,

me, and them are the spheres of divinity

in this dance of life.

I love you,

Millie