Tag: Poetry

Enter dreaming each night 

on the cusp of sleep.

Step swiftly into sweet reverie, 

Encounter more than you know. 

Bidden by intentions, 

Dreams respond 

to questions 

that untangle the soul. 

Throw out a rope 

get pulled ashore, 

before you drift 

too far from home.

Drop a line 

to practical solutions, 

when you get caught 

hung up.

Step inside choices, 

where guidance.  

at the crossroads 

are voices

blowing by

of past and future 

Not knowing why 

which way

or where to go. 

When dreaming, 

the mind drops 

into deep collaboration

with wholeness.

Pouring emotions

into scenes 

and settings 

that can hold all of us.  

Travel in far memory

and curiosity 

to places outside of time.  

Fly with wings above it all

and rise with the winds,

take the long view. 

Take the long way home, 

Searching for truth 

breathing in the smell 

of ancient memories. 

Deeply rooted in trees. 

searching for beliefs 

Forgetting and remembering 

Origin stories.

Ponder along 

forest paths

where birdsongs 

bring happy melodies. 

Every step is deeply felt, 

the weight of it all. 

The well worn dirt path ahead

is easily read 

to find the way home. 

Here there is no hurry, 

it is enough

to stand on the Earth

Be on the path without worry 

you are in the right place,

doing it in the right way. 

take your time. 

Take a breath 

move along 

at your own pace. 

This place is sacred, 

it can hold all of you, 

including dreams.

Recall your ability

to trust yourself 

very deeply. 

Enough to let go, 

and be met by dreams unbidden. 

Enough to come face to face

with what’s hidden

the glow of your own light, 

In the dark of night

like the Sun, the Moon

and the Stars. 

The reflection of moonlight, 

finds the language of trees 

speaking back to you.

Hungry for a deep conversation. 

Light language is what they feed on. 

The language of the soul

is where dreams are found

and this is what I need.

Give a poem, a song, or a dream 

A memory summoned for ages, 

Spiraling and spilling onto pages

These trees keep giving

a living memory.

  

Interwoven roots 

of blood and bone, 

these boots

do roam.

These boots do roam,

seeking lost memory.

Wondering alone 

so far from home.

Wondering alone so far from home

Spiraling back to the sea

the tide moves in and out.

Where did that song come from? 

Deep in the womb. 

Where did that poem arise?  

Deep behind my eyes.

How did that dream keep? 

I took a deep breath,

Plunged into a pool

of wisdom and memory, 

like two Ravens on a Tree. 

Valley Reed 

11/13/25 

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