Little Sister – Lucia Sullivan

******

“Shine on little sister.
When the wind blows by.
The light hits the willows,
And the ravens cry.
The owls stayed snug and tucked in the wood.
Waiting for the night,
As a hoot owl should.
Feet running by in the hot summer sand.
Nature girl glowing,
In the Promised Land.
Oh,
Freedom.
Ringing thru,
Past the first soft field.
A farmer’s life ,
On a tractor wheel.
Shine on little sister.
Taste the rain from the sky.
Listen to the wind as it moans and it cries.
The clouds rolled by and I understood.
I kept silent measure as an angel seed should.
Knots on trees and the clovers green.
Were the prettiest things,
I had ever seen.
I glistened in the glow of a strawberry field,
Smelling the soil of a tractor till.
Shine on little sister,
In the memories there.
Where all was good.
And all was fair.
Stay there.”

Written by Lucia Sullivan Copyright 2018 all rights reserved

luciasullivanpoetry
New York
I AM A CLAIRVOYANT, POET, WRITER, AND SEER. I BELIEVE ALL THINGS ARE MOVING TOWARDS THE LIGHT. I LOVE MUSIC, DANCING, BOATING, NATURE, AND ANIMALS.

******

NOTE – RECENT EDITING

Although all posts are still accessible on my Website one cannot use an ‘Old’ Link to see them. This only applies to posts shared before the recent editing. If the old Link has been saved onto a device or Home Screen it just means re-adding this with the new Link OR finding it on my website using the Search Button.  Lakshmi Amrita 

It may be necessary to re-subscribe to posts by Email (using the FOLLOW BUTTON).

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I realized my existence – Lucia Sullivan

******

“I realized my existence.
Felt my skin and breath from my body.
Watched tiny feet walk down a dusty road.
Just too small to run.
A being ,
Too small to awaken the sleeping.
So,
I kept walking.
Sometimes,
Most times,
Just following my little shoes.
Left alone with the noises of nature.
Five miles deep in a woods that I knew as mother.
I kept time with the more powerful and wise ones.
The tall trees that spoke to me with cedar smells and whistling branches that danced in the wind like a wild bird,
Trying to break free from a too small cage.
I made friends with the summer lightening,
That brought hard rains,
Beating on an old tin roof,
That drown out the voices who just made no sense.
It took an act of god to quiet them.
The storms became my friends.
Just as in life.
A god sent storm to quiet the senseless garble.
And I had found a way to appreciate and love them all.
For in them was a deeper meaning.
As deep as the forest that coddled me.
In arms too great and powerful to be cut away.
Not from my soul.
Not from my memory.
Oh,
Dear Mother Nature,
You loved me.
You taught me how to withstand the winds of change.
You taught me to be wild and free.
You taught me to look up and away.
And you taught me,
That the sun always shines again.
Even after the needed storms of life.”

Written by Lucia Sullivan copy right 2018 all rights reserved

Birdcage Painting – Botanical Birdcage by Paul Brent @ Fine Art America

luciasullivanpoetry
New York
I AM A CLAIRVOYANT, POET, WRITER, AND SEER. I BELIEVE ALL THINGS ARE MOVING TOWARDS THE LIGHT. I LOVE MUSIC, DANCING, BOATING, NATURE, AND ANIMALS.

***

NOTE – RECENT EDITING

Although all posts are still accessible on my Website one cannot use an ‘Old’ Link to see them. This only applies to posts shared before the recent editing. If the old Link has been saved onto a device or Home Screen it just means re-adding this with the new Link OR finding it on my website using the Search Button.  Lakshmi Amrita 

It may be necessary to re-subscribe to posts by Email (using the FOLLOW BUTTON).

The whippoorwill that called my name – Lucia Sullivan

Florida Pantha

******

“It was the whippoorwill that called my name.
Oh,
Hot,
Sweaty night in the last of Spring.
I heard you there in the forest kiss.
Shadows in wood spots,
Mysterious.
I would find the places there,
That caught and contained the most magical air.
And they would call me odd.
Few souls can understand,
When god calls from sunshine a miracle hand.
The whippoorwills all know my name.
From the potato barn and the creek bed spring.
The wild cats roaming deep in the woods there,
Would recognize my golden hair.
And accept me.
I roamed alone as a wild cat roams.
The woods and hiding spots were home.
The whippoorwills all know my name.
The wild cat human,
Never tamed.’ (For Trevor)
Written by Lucia Sullivan copyright 2018 all rights reserved

– ♥ –

Art: Faint by Gothic Ice Cream @ DeviantArt

luciasullivanpoetry
New York
I AM A CLAIRVOYANT, POET, WRITER, AND SEER. I BELIEVE ALL THINGS ARE MOVING TOWARDS THE LIGHT. I LOVE MUSIC, DANCING, BOATING, NATURE, AND ANIMALS.

 

Butterfly in the morning – Lucia Sullivan

Artist appreciation

_

“There was a dusty road full of mystery.
It was enough.
Without your sparkle.
I would still,
Find my way.
I had the haunted night,
To awaken me.
The dewy morning on spiders’ webs.
The fort in the woods,
By a little creek.
Where gentle creatures lived.
Close to houses but far enough,
To exist in the quaint happiness,
Of gentle sunlight thru broken trees.
A place,
Where I too was allowed.
We creatures of the dawn,
Are drawn to ourselves.
And I was a sunbeam of solitude.
Yet,
I would never find,
A place close to houses,
But not far enough,
To exist without the measure of shadows creeping.
I was the butterfly in the morning.
Fluttering nervously.
Chasing the sunlight.
The light purple one.
That landed in your hair in the Spring.
So light and true,
You never even knew,
I was there.
And,
I can fly back to the creek in the morning.
While this winter was long,
And froze me still.
I have started to flutter again.
In a place,
Close to houses,
But far enough,
To exist.”
Written by Lucia Sullivan Copyright 2018 all rights reserved

 

Abbott and Holder Wild Flowers

******

luciasullivanpoetry
New York
I AM A CLAIRVOYANT, POET, WRITER, AND SEER. I BELIEVE ALL THINGS ARE MOVING TOWARDS THE LIGHT. I LOVE MUSIC, DANCING, BOATING, NATURE, AND ANIMALS.

An old country road – Lucia Sullivan

******

“You were a light on an old country road.
Plowing thru the dust with your silent and steady patience.
The trees would bend to see you pass.
The owlets would open the bushes,
So you could see their eyes.
The sky opened up and shot down light from the Angels singing,
Singing in the breezes of a Spring time;
Carolina morning.
Frogs leapt from mud puddles just to see you step beside them.
You were the light for life around you.
You were a light on an old country road.
You held the hearts of tiny hands.
Leading them up and out of the darkness.
As time moves on,
I still see you sometimes.
In the magic and the movements between seconds of seconds.
Where the sky parts and the Angels sing.
Joined now by your precious voice.
But you will forever be,
That light on the old country road.
That has led me home,
A thousand times.” (For my grandmother Miss Maude)

Written by Lucia Sullivan ♥ Copyright 2018 all rights reserved

******

luciasullivanpoetry
New York
I AM A CLAIRVOYANT, POET, WRITER, AND SEER. I BELIEVE ALL THINGS ARE MOVING TOWARDS THE LIGHT. I LOVE MUSIC, DANCING, BOATING, NATURE, AND ANIMALS.

I can never forget you – Lucia Sullivan

Lucia Sullivan

******

“I was glad it was over.
The beginning wasn’t even my own.
I would have chosen,
For me,
A loving home.
I was glad it was over.
I had pockets full of springtime in the country.
I pulled out the laughter and the morning dew,
And sometimes,
I would see your face.
Squinty blue eyes,
And a glowing heart.
I never had one picture of you.
But god himself imprinted the memories,
All over my skin,
My being.
I was glad it was over.
There wasn’t anything left there,
Without you.
The woods were just the woods.
The dirt road was just dust now.
Without you plowing thru,
Without you picking the wild flowers.
I was glad it was over.
Now that they were left to hold the reigns .
They drove me into those thickets of thorns you used to warn me about.
They put me out at midnight for the owls to catch me.
The ones you told me about in the dark.
On the creaky porch while we talked about the hollow tree in the yard.
They put me inside the hollow and never came back.
But I pulled that sunshine out of my pockets,
There in the dark of those hollows.
With the howling of those strange creatures hidden in the boroughs.
And I found my way back to you in the dark.
All I could see was your face.
I was glad it was over.
And one day,
We will begin again.
And I can never forget.
Because you,
Are written all over my soul.” (For my grandma)

******

Written by Lucia Sullivan ♥ Copyright 2018 all rights reserved
luciasullivanpoetry
New York
I am a clairvoyant, poet, writer, and seer. I believe all things are moving towards the light. I love music, dancing, boating, nature, and animals.

The red lights came to catch my eye – Lucia Sullivan

___

“The red lights came to catch my eye.
I didn’t know that the ravens cry.
Inside the trees by the willows there,
They sat there screeching,
To the maidens,
Fair.
The red lights came to catch my eye.
To tell me some poor soul,
Was to surely die.
They called to me by the light of the moon.
The ancestors wagon would be coming soon.
They rode right in on the death horse;
Down.
With a swarming of the creatures that live underground.
They whistled in between the clocks two hands,
Quickly and softly from the promised land.
The red lights came to catch my eye.
To let my heart release and to say goodbye.
To ashes and ashes and all of those worries.
I felt no rushes and my heart felt no flurries.
The ancestors cracked the whip, on the beasts and steed.
To take their child back home,
To her will and deed.
The red lights came to catch my eye.
A cold and weary journey,
And I can not cry.
Back in a fury to amazing grace.
One resembled the soul spot,
And a God like face.
The red lights came to catch my eye.
I did not know that the ravens cry.”

******

Raven Winds by Frank Howell

Written by Lucia Sullivan  Copyright 2018 all rights reserved

luciasullivanpoetry

New York

I am a clairvoyant, poet, writer, and seer. I believe all things are moving towards the light. I love music, dancing, boating, nature, and animals.

“She’s been there” – Lucia Sullivan

Art: Josephine Wall

******

“She’s been there.
In the moonlight.
Where the muddy water splashed by in a summer breeze.
And Indian arrow heads lay hidden in the fields far past the beacon of water drops and moonlit light spots.
She ran thru the dirt and laid on the ground.
Looking up at the best of what life had to offer.
Open skies.
An open mind .
And dreams that led to lost love.
But love.
Love none the less.
It was better to feel the breaks.
The burn.
The painful pulses of life .
Than to close her eyes and wallow face down in the dirt.
She’s been there.
When the bow broke.
When the cold winds blew and frosted her fingers and heart to the sheer brink of her shivering blood.
She danced in the rain.
And rode with the lightning.
She let go,
And she loved and lost
And loved deeper and loved longer and lost some more.
But she won.
In the vision.
She’s been there.
She and her heart flying in the open skies.
Too big to close .
Too lofty to forget.
She lived on the edges of razor blades love kiss.
And it’s never over.
And it never kills the caged bird.
Because she,
She learned to fly.
And she can fly far,
Far away.
Into daybreak and sundown over oceans of sail boats.
On a warm day going down with the sun disc of life.
She’s been there.
And the sky is too vast to stop now.
So she flies.
She flies with the heartbeats of laughter.
She flies with a heartbeat of love.
She’s moving.
And now and then,
She may land,
On a shoulder.
And if ever you felt her touch down.
You will always remember.
She’s been there.”

Written by Lucia Sullivan ♥ Copyright 2018 all rights reserved

Westward Dreaming art by Autumn Skye Morrison

___

luciasullivanpoetry

New York

I am a clairvoyant, poet, writer, and seer. I believe all things are moving towards the light. I love music, dancing, boating, nature, and animals.

“I am going back” by Lucia Sullivan

******

“I am going back.
Back to the beginning.
When angel hairs bloomed out white
And blue eyes sparkled through sunbeams in the morning.
I am going back home to the first of things.
Before,
Before the brindle hairs started blooming and the sunbeams turned into a stinging pain.
I found my way forward in a myriad of unusual circumstances.
But instead,
I pulled upward toward the sky.
I may back flip my way towards her.
Back to the start.
So that I may find the meaning in her tender eyes.
The real meaning .
Before the pulling,
The pushing and the scrambling began.
And I will find her in the hallway.
Where sunbeams shot thru the windows and covered dust tracks ,
Delicious and inviting.
I will find her there watching quietly.
Wanting what she wants now.
And before she has been starved too deeply.
Of the love that she needs for her soul,
I will tell her.
That she herself is love.
I am going back.
I am going back for her.
And when her tiny hand meets mine.
I will pull her into my heart.
And she,
Will finally be home.”

Artist appreciation

___

luciasullivanpoetry

New York

I am a clairvoyant, poet, writer, and seer. I believe all things are moving towards the light. I love music, dancing, boating, nature, and animals.

 

Carolina Morning by Lucia Sullivan

William Mangum Art North Carolina

******

“You can keep your diamonds and pearls.
I have the sunshine.
The light thru the Willows on a cool Spring morning.
And you can cross stitch me thru time.
But you can not take the essence from my soul.
You can build your sky scraper tall on a hill.
With glass windows and silver spoons for breakfast,
On balconies that I can never reach.
But I have the dew drops off of an old tin roof.
Glistening spider webs and the smell of the earth and summer rain.
My essence is in the creek bed by the two old pines that never speak too loudly.
They only whisper my name in a breeze that blows across the strawberry patch.
That blooms as I bloom.
And is as sweet as a Carolina morning.
You can keep your diamonds and pearls.
The creator has given me an entire sky.
With blankets of whites and blues and yellows and golds.
Forever gold.
That can not be bought or sold or lost or stolen.
I have the sunshine and all of the life inside of its glitter.
All that glitters is my gold.
And I am part of the love light shining.”

Written by Lucia Sullivan Copyright 2017 all rights reserved

___

luciasullivanpoetry

New York

I am a clairvoyant, poet, writer, and seer. I believe all things are moving towards the light. I love music, dancing, boating, nature, and animals.

Masquerade Painting – Gratitude to Artist

 

 

And I may never go back – Lucia Sullivan

Redhead Fairy Art Print Dragonfly Fairy by Sascalia @ Etsy

******

“And I may never go back.
To that same place on that same night.
Under that same shade tree in the dark shadows of the midnight.
I may never go right back to the smell of sweet pines and burning embers.
In the cold that would freeze you to bones and madness.
When wild hearts beat the drums of life with insanity and unchained energy of soft bodies blazing out at the moon.
I may never see you laughing there.
With that long lasting roar of knowing.
You remember how sure you were.
That something was always going right.
Because we,
Were right there in the misty moonlight of living.
Too new to break.
Too bright to burn out.
And I may never go back.
But I have that moonshine in my pocket forever.
I will ride the lightening energy of becoming.
Just more time,
To see you there.
Maybe I will find you in a familiar spot.
Where everything seems the same,
But different somehow.
And I may never go back.
Because I will pull you with me.
Into another place.
Under the same moon.
And we will call her our sister.
And she will shine,
Like never before.”

Written by Lucia Sullivan ♥ copy right 2017 all rights reserved

___

luciasullivanpoetry

New York

I am a clairvoyant, poet, writer, and seer. I believe all things are moving towards the light. I love music, dancing, boating, nature, and animals.

Daughter of The Moonlight by Ina Wong @ DeviantArt

I will be home – Lucia Sullivan

Hummingbird and Forest Spirits by Jennifer Baird

******

“Maybe you will come back.
And we will meet in the woods there,
By the old farm house.
Maybe we will breathe together again.
In the silence that beamed sugar lights out of my soul.
We can sit quietly in the night air.
Warm and dewy and buzzing with moon lights birth right.
In that little house down the old dirt road,
Where summertime was quiet and loud with life.
Where I sat on a black leather couch and listened to the summer bugs outside ,
Blending with my spirit.
Maybe you will come back.
And I will listen to the theme song from Dallas,
Play on a small t.v. ,
In a little room.
Full of presence and an in depth wonderment,
That only your quiet being could mold with.
Maybe we will laugh again.
In that same spot by the window.
Covered with plastic ,
And beating wildly in the wind.
Maybe we will find each other in the building blocks of the South.
Where some long dirt road leads to a portal of the past.
Or perhaps,
One in the future.
And things will be beautiful again.
But they will seem oddly different,
Without the house,
Without the beating plastic in the window.
All that matters is that you are there.
Within those walls of captured time,
We would create new houses with new windows.
And listen to the bugs breathe and give us a life so familiar.
That we had never lost anything.
We had just returned to one another.
Maybe you will come back.
And our winding roads will hold down the summertime.
For a long time.
One more time.
And I ,
I will be home.”

Written by Lucia Sullivan ♥ Copyright 2017 all rights reserved

___

luciasullivanpoetry

New York

I am a clairvoyant, poet, writer, and seer. I believe all things are moving towards the light. I love music, dancing, boating, nature, and animals.

You could have stayed for ever – Lucia Sullivan

******

“You spilled over like honey.
Sticky wings on slick green grass.
You could have stayed forever.
However long,
Forever lasts.
You were a forest fairy.
I was a lost soul rising.
You were a tender light;
Merry.
I was a blinding light shining.
We met in the darkness of midnight.
Under the Summer moon.
We touched in the darkness of moon beams.
That warmed and revived and consumed.
We gathered our lives by the moonlight.
And whispered our light to the world.
We found our presence as insight.
A fairy of light;
And a girl.
The pond whistled sounds of a life there.
One that was a mystical muse.
No other could have replayed it.
That night was a symphony of new.
We touched our fingers together.
We touched our hearts to the wind.
In madness and energy blinking.
We knew we would never meet again.
I had not seen you in winter.
I had not seen you in spring.
I had not found you in fall’s dead leaves.
You were my mystical ring.
In summer I heard you in wind chimes.
Your scent carried by like a rose.
Your laughter was found in the free birds.
That landed wherever they chose.
Summer was always about you.
Summer always will be,
Where fairies and broken winged Angels,
Are carried by a mystical breeze.”

Written by Lucia Sullivan Copyright 2017 all rights reserved

 

Art via Fanpop

******

luciasullivanpoetry

New York

I am a clairvoyant, poet, writer, and seer. I believe all things are moving towards the light. I love music, dancing, boating, nature, and animals.

“The Angel In The Flower Field” (For my grandmother) – Lucia Sullivan

 

******

“The Angel In The Flower Field” (For my grandmother)

“We went to look for flowers.
Deep in the woods that day.
The clouds were a blanket of heaven.
The ground was a bucket of clay.
You parted the branches and shuttered.
You pushed the weeds down very tight.
Behind you there in the shadows.
I walked with you into the light.
You picked and you plundered the roots there.
While I gazed off in the sky.
My body was tiny and fragile.
My spirit was huge, wide and high.
I felt the shutters of heaven.
Standing bare feet on the moss.
Green and wet with its beauty.
I was never so happy to be lost.
I felt her coming upon me.
She stood there in the bright light.
She glistened and warmed me with love glow.
I would never be afraid of the night.
She stood as tall as the trees there.
Shining down like a lamp.
Warm and blinding and consuming.
She branded me like a stamp.
The Angel,
She stood in the portal.
While you were there bending your knees.
Picking and gathering flowers.
She washed in and out of me.
I never whispered a word of her.
I never said it out loud.
Her gift was covered with wisdom.
She gave me a healing shroud.
No flowers have ever bloomed as bright.
Than those we gathered that day.
I must have been about four then.
When the Angel showed me the way.
Now flowers bloom in my heart spots.
That no one can ever remove.
They bloom and they flicker and flutter.
Especially,
When I think of you.”

Written by Lucia Sullivan Copyright 2017 all rights reserved

luciasullivanpoetry

New York

I am a clairvoyant, poet, writer, and seer. I believe all things are moving towards the light. I love music, dancing, boating, nature, and animals.

 

Art: Stephen Mackey

ARTIST APPRECIATION Gratitude to artists

“I had always been able to see” – Lucia Sullivan

Golden Butterfly art by Gothic Ice Cream @ DeviantArt

******

I had always been able to see

” I had always been able to see.
Acutely aware of the spaces in between.
Touching faces with tender hands.
Long gazes into faces and eyes,
Searching for the miracle,
For the missing pieces.
That I must,
Have left behind.
In the yonder world.
Beyond the sky.
In the stillness of dreams and flight paths.
Where Angels make filtered noises to remind them of the music here.
As close as they could get without materializing.
Making me sing down here for their amusement.
Now I remember,
How I longed for a voice.
So,
I traded in my wings.
To speak.
To laugh.
To feel the passion and burning of emotions,
In motions of time slots.
Here in the weight world of lunatics and shouting.
Where voices are so heavy they can blow up the world.
But I needed to see.
I needed to feel.
I needed to sing and feel the sway of a drum beat.
So,
I traded in my wings for some chains and collars.
When I removed them,
My spirit went wild.
And the Angels pushed me back to the floor.
Reminding me of my sacrifice.
I had traded in whispers for expressions of great feeling.
So,
I must feel.
As time fades into night and my spirit takes her journey home.
In dreamland,
I will remember the weightlessness of the yonder world.
Where I could not sing too loud.
Where I could not know the feel of cool water on a hot blurry day.
Where I could not walk down a long dirt road and feel the cool soil on my bare feet.
But oh.
Oh,
How I long to fly .
And tonight I will fly.
Back to the yonder world.
In my journey dream home.”

Written by Lucia Sullivan Copyright 2017 all rights reserved

 

luciasullivanpoetry

New York

I am a clairvoyant, poet, writer, and seer. I believe all things are moving towards the light. I love music, dancing, boating, nature, and animals.

“The Old Place” – Lucia Sullivan

Lucia Sullivan

******

The Old Place

” Down out the old place in the morning dew,
Tin roof shining with the dawning,
New.
The old kitchen sat right across the way.
Grandpa sat on the steps with few words to say.
He patted my back and gave me a hug.
I could feel the warmness of his heart give a tug.
His overalls defined him in their stripes and blue.
Skinny and strong with a smile or two.
We went walking down the old dirt road.
To pick some berries and maybe find a toad.
He was brisk and fast as he went that way.
In the dusty sunshine on a fine summer day.
He pulled off his hat and starting filling it up.
I giggled and helped him with a small tin cup.
We walked back fast and I held his hand.
He was as gentle and strong as any man’s man.
I walked up the rocks and then up the steps.
We handed them to grandma and gave a long hard breath.
Fans sat in corners and blew my hair around.
A small plastic cup of water and bare feet to the ground.
Down at the old place in the morning dew.
Where everything will be,
Forever new.” 

Written by Lucia Sullivan Copyright 2017 all rights reserved

 

luciasullivanpoetry

New York

I am a clairvoyant, poet, writer, and seer. I believe all things are moving towards the light. I love music, dancing, boating, nature, and animals.

 

Astral Travel – Lucia Sullivan

City of Angels by Bernadette Wulf @ Wulf Visionary Art

******

Astral Travel

“Drifting off to dream,
In the twilight zone.
Far from body, house and home.
Astral traveling at midnight.
Full moons circle,
Past my flight.
Wings of doves and ravens feet.
Upwards toward the highest peak .
The flight of Angels,
Past my head.
I knew that I
Was asleep,
I was not dead.
I drifted out,
In the twilight zone.
In astral flight.
So far from home. “

Written by Lucia Sullivan Copyright 2017 all rights reserved

luciasullivanpoetry

New York

I am a clairvoyant, poet, writer, and seer. I believe all things are moving towards the light. I love music, dancing, boating, nature, and animals.

“I had been a thousand faces” – Lucia Sullivan

Mask @ Fort Collins Museum of Contemporary Art

******

“I had been a thousand faces”

– ♥ –

“I had been a thousand faces.
Maybe more.
Until ,
I met you.
I had broken every glass.
Every plate had fallen.
None left spinning,
In the madness ,
Of finding you.
Back.
Back to the meager beginning.
To the woods and the pines.
To the moaning’s at midnight,
Of strange animals.
Animals that were hidden to me in the day.
I had searched for them ,
And their noises.
Back to the bees buzzing around two shabby wooden boxes,
That I did not understand .
That I knew to respect.
Somehow.
Someway.
I walked in my footsteps backwards.
So far back that I could feel the water in her belly,
Swell up around me.
And what I found,
Was not a beginning.
Not a beginning of anything.
Just a rebirth.
A constant knowing.
A constant presence.
That I had been .
A million times.
In a million different places.
And all that mattered,
Was how much ,
I had loved.”

 

Written by Lucia Sullivan  Copyright 2017 all rights reserved

luciasullivanpoetry

New York

I am a clairvoyant, poet, writer, and seer. I believe all things are moving towards the light. I love music, dancing, boating, nature, and animals.

“You Talked To Me” – Lucia Sullivan

At: Maryam Morrison on Love

******

“You Talked To Me”

” You talked to me where the wounds had left holes in your soul.
You spoke in foreign tongues of negative and hopeless voices.
I told you to leave them alone or they would stretch bigger.
But you refused.
Those voices had taken a strong hold.
You lived there.
Bleeding.
I mimicked you a time or two.
I heard your voice in my despair.
I reminded myself of your madness and I quickly became a seamstress of the wounded area.
I still believe,
You could be sewn up.
By a miraculous hand .
One,
With a needle so fine and true,
That not even you,
Could pick apart the stitches.
I have envisioned your transformation a thousand times.
Back home.
Back to life.
Whole.
And in that bridge too far,
Is hope.
And that,
That is my one and only voice. “

Written by Lucia Sullivan copyright 2017 all rights reserved

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luciasullivanpoetry

New York

I am a clairvoyant, poet, writer, and seer. I believe all things are moving towards the light. I love music, dancing, boating, nature, and animals.

” If a Tree Falls In the Forest” – Lucia Sullivan

Mixed Media Girl Sister Painting ~ by Sascalia @ Etsy

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” If a Tree Falls In the Forest”

” The field was mist and shivers,
In the dewy Spring of Pines.
The soil smelled like the rivers,
Where the creek made Willows whine.
I walked with no restrictions.
No obligation to the world.
Just a skip a hop and limber.
A Country,
Tree feet girl.
There was no noise or trembles.
That the world,
She whistles loud.
No hustling of the people’s,
In a stomach aching ,
Crowd.
Only clouds above me.
With the rocks under my feet.
Walking in the silent woods,
Where new and old would meet.
I walked where grandma walked there.
When she too had heard no noise.
She did not need much either.
No town or treasure toys.
Just earth things in their beauty.
The moss on ground to touch.
The soft soil caressing my bare feet.
I miss that comfort,
So much.
We traveled in the sunshine.
Each season had it’s day.
The cold reminded us to be thankful.
The warmth reminded us to play.
We were forever melted there.
Like hearts carved on the trees.
Two little girls ,
Raised by the dust.
And carried by the breeze.”

Written by Lucia Sullivan copyright 2017 all rights reserved

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luciasullivanpoetry

New York

I am a clairvoyant, poet, writer, and seer. I believe all things are moving towards the light. I love music, dancing, boating, nature, and animals.

“That Old Wood Porch” – Lucia Sullivan

Art: Dorina Costras

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“That Old Wood Porch”

” I welcomed you,
Like a shiny object.
In my eyes,
You were as bright,
As the sun drop spots,
In a spiders web in the Spring.
I had never seen,
Your suffering.
I faded into a daydream,
When your smile came out.
I heard the water droplets thru the water spout.
Where the well sat silent and still.
And the trees bent slow and easy to hear us whispering.
Thud, thud, thud.
The water gave you presence.
A backdrop,
For you laughter.
Oh,
That soul.
You had escaped,
Some long lost eternity.
Where Angels breath blew you,
Thru the Southern skies of home.
You fell into a world of clocks.
And tick tocks.
Not meant to stay too long.
I welcomed you like a shiny object.
A reminder that even Angels,
Dance in the rain.
A shadowy prescence,
Thru a young girl’s window pane.
In a world full of of wooden wrist watches,
You were golden.
So for now,
You are,
Forever frozen.
In the window pane,
Of my childhood heart.”

Written by Lucia Sullivan copyright 2017 all rights reserved

******

 

luciasullivanpoetry

New York

I am a clairvoyant, poet, writer, and seer. I believe all things are moving towards the light. I love music, dancing, boating, nature, and animals.

 

“The Winds of Change” – Lucia Sullivan

Art: Tatiana Oles

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“The Winds of Change”

“I held you in such high regards.
Just your smile.
Your soft face.
Made for a good reason,
To love you.
But there were complications.
When the wind came,
And blew you about a bit.
Your leaves started falling,
And your timbers began to shiver and scream,
At me.
As if I alone,
Had brought the breeze.
But it wasn’t me,
And it wasn’t you.
It was the winds of change.
And in them,
I blew far away.”

Written by Lucia Sullivan © 2017 All rights reserved

******

 

luciasullivanpoetry

New York

I am a clairvoyant, poet, writer, and seer. I believe all things are moving towards the light. I love music, dancing, boating, nature, and animals.