Destiny—Do I Have One


The heart’s ears listen to the earned lyrics

move you like a tornado,

eating everything in its path,

while the brain stokes the fires of passion.


That is destiny.


The mind sprints through time and space

shuffle the cards dealt at its table.

The wait for Spirit’s hand

lurks in the dealer’s cut.


That is destiny.


The body walks, skips, runs, tries to avoid

the daily lessons

that flow from the ocean of love and mercy,

often stumble into divine presence.


That is destiny.


But the soul watches and waits

for a balance beam

to ride the waves of the wind.

Checks the status of heart, mind and body,


assesses readiness to make a pact

with harmony

and if the light and sound dance

with passion,

Soul catches a wave,

pulls heart, mind and body along.


And you ask the question,

Do I have a destiny?

Spirit answers,

you are on the way home.


That is destiny.


When I reflect on all the places

my booths have touched this lifetime,

I feel the steam of gratitude

in the dampness of my shirt.


The rain falls in bouquets,

a healing massage against my face.

A howl of wildness invokes my

vocal cords with freedoms cry.


That is destiny.


And when the cranes

scope the landscape

against a turquoise sky

vaulted by muscular clouds,

I know a rhythm greater than myself

leads me on the pathway.


I write down the walls

the story

that is

my destiny.


© Teresa E. Gallion Monday, February 28, 2011



08 Standing at the Feet of Zion.mp3

Standing at the Feet of Zion

(Zion National Park Utah)

The walls of Zion raise their heads toward eternity,
quietly pulling us into its bosom.
The walls ripple with brown sugar, chocolate heat,
red cinnamon, caramel and orange cream.

Ruby red seeps through amber walls
and mossy greens burst open into floral bouquets
spreading their legs in the sunlight.
Pine needles romp across the foothills
dusting the slick rock with sweet scents.

Tears of the weeping walls nurture colorful posies
hanging and holding tight.
A virgin river works magic in the green valley,
sometimes quietly and sometimes in violent tantrums
that command boulders to leap from cliff sides
and form new communities beside the river.

Rock climbers cling to towering walls
inching their way up like ants with a mission,
marching upward on Zion.

Emerald pools drip one into the other with a melody
that holds memories of a thousand years.
Close your eyes and look into the past.
See the ancient ones and hear ritual drums
Play sacrificial lyrics that float in the wind
blessing the earth on which we stand.

A festival for the eyes, ears, feet, heart and soul,
Zion beckons us to come in for an intimate experience.
The energy of this space grabs and holds gently.
What a perfect name Zion.

© Teresa E. Gallion 2003

This poem is on my CD: On the Wings of the Wind.


13 Maple Leaf.mp3

Maple Leaf

I am leaf emerging in spring
from buds resting on the branches
of my homestead.

I sing green in all my glory
all summer long
giving shade to the forest.

I will fill your soul with the fragrance of my love.
I will love you like a sweet violet,
hold you gently in my arms.

Oh wandering species human,
you may bring heavy steps to my woods,
but come.

Come in my autumn stretch
when my rainbow sings on a carpet
of red yellow orange purple brown.

The lips of my ruffled tips
flirt with the wind.
I sing I flutter I rain on the ground.

I live in the forest of dreams
where tears of reckless love
find soothing relief.

Within my halls you may contemplate
the mysteries of life and death
and your current relationships.

I shelter the trail you may walk
in solitude and prayer.
So take off your dark robes of despair.

Break the frozen chain binding your sorrows.
Leave them with me.
I will send them sailing on the skirts of the wind.

© Teresa E. Gallion 2003


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