We keep these things sacred – Lucia Sullivan

Ginette Beaulieu - Tutt'Art- female face white flowers

Artist Ginette Beaulieu @ Tutt’Art

*   *   *

“We keep these things sacred.
When all is bright and new.
That the first is always golden.
When each day is done.
And thru.

So wake,
With the purpose of living.
And touching each thing new.
To keep the heart wide open.
So the breath of life,
Flows thru “

*   *   *

Written by Lucia Sullivan copyright 2020 all rights reserved
https://www.psychicluciasullivan.com/
Click on above Link for Lucia’s website
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.

~

Gratitude to all artists. Any queries or information, please contact me, Shekinah

The Mystic – Lucia Sullivan

Artist ~ Ichiro Tsuruta

* * *

The Mystic

“I am a mystic.
And maybe,
You missed it.
I seemed too light …
Shined too bright.
Felt the cold chill on a firelight night.

And read the embers …
Name by name.
And how they moved,
Thru the orange flame.
I am a mystic.
A jumper.
A flyer.
I can taste true love.
And I,
Can smell a liar.

But I don’t stop for the mundane quirks.
There,
Are bigger things in a mystic’s work.
So I fly above.
And touch with my wings.
Barely there in the wind.
Looking,
For bigger things.

I am a mystic.
New and so old.
And I will live on.
And many stories,
Will be told.”

*   *   *

Written by Lucia Sullivan copyright 2020 all rights reserved
https://www.psychicluciasullivan.com/
Click on above Link for Lucia’s website
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.

~

Gratitude to all artists. Any queries or information, please contact me, Shekinah

The blue dragon – Lucia Sullivan

~

“The blue dragon blows by the Ocean at night.
Reaching with fire,
Under bright light,
Star night…
Watchful.
Protecting the jewels and the light.
The blue dragon loves.
The blue dragon;
Fights.” (Goodnight)

*   *   *

Written by Lucia Sullivan copyright 2020 all rights reserved
https://www.psychicluciasullivan.com/
Click on above Link for Lucia’s website
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.

~

Gratitude to all artists. Any queries or information, please contact me, Shekinah  

Angel of The Morning Sun Part 3 – Lucia Sullivan

African American Art via Pinterest

* * * *

Angel of The Morning Sun (Part 3)
A trilogy of African poems by Lucia Sullivan

 

”Oh, gentle mother,
With the winds of the basin,
Washing over your face.
You have travelled the heated Savannah,
With so little sleep.
For three hours each night,
You close your tinted eyelashes.
Replaying everything in your huge consciousness of being.
Retaining the knowledge and wisdom of the African horizons,
First kiss.

Holding on to the memories of all you have seen.
Your Ivory jewelry adorns you.
Telling the creatures of the plain,
Your matriarchal worth.
And that the lady has grace,
In the face of all adversity.
The bushes scream for you to taste them.
For you to pull them into your belly.
Hoping you will stay,
Until your teeth began to fall out and lose strength.

As each tooth falls,
A star falls from above the safari.
As if to count down,
The loss of the great mother.
Calling her home,
To the great pyramid in the sky.
Where her ghostly form,
Has wings to fly.
An atmosphere of all knowing.
Her hugeness remains.

Beautiful mother of Africa’s birth,
Watch over us as you enter the gates.
Just as you watched over the plain.
In courage and empathy.
With grace and wisdom.
Guide us with,
Your great spirit.“

*   *   *
Written by Lucia Sullivan copyright 2020 all rights reserved
https://www.psychicluciasullivan.com/
Click on above Link for Lucia’s website
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.

~

Gratitude to all artists. Any queries or information, please contact me, Shekinah  

Angel of The Morning Sun Part 2 – Lucia Sullivan

lucia and elephant for poem

A Trilogy of African Poems by Lucia Sullivan
Angel of The Morning Sun Part 2

 

“Born from the rains of the African safari,
Her birthmarks from her great mother,
Frame her gentle face.
She walks thru the night,
Under a trillion stars.
That glitter stick,
To her fancy eyelashes.

Making way,
For those who follow behind.
Her proboscis reaches out into the night.
Touching the African winds.
Welcoming the great life force that pulls and pushes upon her heaviness.

Reaching out to love the night.
To smell the dust.
The earth.
The green, green, trees.
Of her roaming home.
She listens thru her feet.
The sounds of the safari.

Feeling the chanting of the jungle life.
The conversations of,
Creatures,
Great and small,
Radiating thru her massive legs.
Reaching up,
To her huge heart.
Filling her,
With the compassion of the great Savannah.

She holds the essence of every animal.
Every tree.
Every basin.
Every heart-break of those who are lost to the raw night.
Yet,
She walks in beauty with the mysterious African night.
Smelling the water that glistens under the stars.
She moves twelve miles,
To drink in her reflection.
Looking closely at the mirror of dim night light,
She sees her intensity and bats her long lashes slowly.

A feminine form.
Reminding her,
Of her own beauty amidst the sacrifices of the night.
Blessed mother,
Walk on.
Walk on.
In the light show of the African,
Mysterious,
Dark night.”

*   *   *
Written by Lucia Sullivan copyright 2020 all rights reserved
https://www.psychicluciasullivan.com/
Click on above Link for Lucia’s website
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.

For the Beings of Eternal Light – Lucia Sullivan

female face - title - Portal by Kimberly Webber at artavia

Portal ~ Artist Kimberly Webber @ Artavia

💛

“Come and rise with me to the higher place.
Past the chaos on the outer plains,
Of wrong thinking.
Where the light starts from a new portal.

Illuminating life’s eternal birth place.
Where all of the good souls enter and exit.
Where their essence has created a home,
For the beings of eternal light.

Stand in the doorway for the magnificent awakening!
Now is the time for the gathering of the good and light.”

*   *   *
Written by Lucia Sullivan copyright 2020 all rights reserved
https://www.psychicluciasullivan.com/
Click on above Link for Lucia’s website
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.

🌻

Gratitude & appreciation to all artists. Any queries or information, please contact me, Shekinah   

Fire into ice – Lucia Sullivan

***

“She transmits fire into ice.
Darkness to light.
Bad dreams into sunny days.
Dark shadows into illumination.
Chaos into laughter.
Hatred into love.

Brokenness into wholeness.
And weakness into strength.
This is the journey of the alchemist.
Who,
Heals bones and blood.
And hearts and souls.”
*   *   *
Written by Lucia Sullivan copyright 2020 all rights reserved
https://www.psychicluciasullivan.com/
Click on above Link for Lucia’s website
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.

☘🌹☘

Gratitude & appreciation to all artists. Any queries or information, please contact me, Shekinah   

I’m living with the trees again – Lucia Sullivan

The Messengers Watercolour Art by Tracy Lewis Art Studio

~*~
“I’m living with the trees again.
They in quiet life;
Ascend.
Down by the valley.
Into the rock of ages.
Where birds whistle ballads.
And call on the sages.
Where life is life immortal.
And wind kisses my face.
And lilly pads are silent gold.
Their Emerald tops encase.
And flecks of colors embrace me.
And breathe out as I,
Breathe in.
A symbiotic motion.
A lover,
And a friend.
Where music was born in the quiet heart.
Against the forest floor.
And drummed the evening ,
With her heart.
For life to grow,
Some more.
The unseen breath upon my back.
The hand of God,
Is near.
To press my footsteps further.
To the place that he holds dear.
And gentle winds blow fond and fair.
With my thoughts,
That swim ever slow.
To capture all of nature’s kiss.
And illuminate,
The glow.”
*   *   *
Written by Lucia Sullivan copyright 2020 all rights reserved
https://www.psychicluciasullivan.com/
Click on above Link for Lucia’s website
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.

🌼

Gratitude & appreciation to all artists. Any queries or information, please contact me, Shekinah 

The ancestors whisper – Lucia Sullivan

Back to The Garden by Donna Smallenberg

🌳

“The ancestors whisper,
Thru the leaves.
Disguising themselves as trees.
And I,
Slowly pass so many,
By.
Flow with the water in your roots.
Remember the music of the Celtic flute.

Long ago in the countryside.
When you ran a horse far,
And wide.
Dusty shoes,
And an Angel’s face.
The trees softly whisper,
“Remember your place.”
The ancestors whisper thru the leaves.
Disguising themselves,
As trees.”
Written by Lucia Sullivan copyright 2019 all rights reserved

🌴

https://www.psychicluciasullivan.com/
CLICK ON ABOVE LINK FOR LUCIA’S WEBSITE
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.

🎼

Gratitude & appreciation to all artists. Any queries, please contact me, Shekinah 

Love is a dance – Lucia Sullivan

💘

“Love is a dance.
Some finish the dance,
Holding each other tightly,
Keeping the world outside.
Some finish the dance in a dip,
That crashed to a fall.
~
Careless.
Wreck-less
Some finish in a spin,
That leads them far away from each other.
Unable to recover the distance of letting go too long.
~
And some,
Well.
Some just dance in the rain.
And find each other.
Again and again. “
Written by Lucia Sullivan ~ Copyright 2019 all rights reserved

*🧡*

https://www.psychicluciasullivan.com/
CLICK ON ABOVE LINK FOR LUCIA’S WEBSITE
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.

💕💕

Gratitude & appreciation to all artists & photographers. Any queries, please contact me, Shekinah 

Woman of the wood – Lucia Sullivan

female face white butterflies

~*~

“There you are in the warrior wood.
Standing silent as a tree child stood.
Spacious skies opening like unzipped shirts.
Blanketing the canvas of a summer’s earth.
Sky creatures whip over land and air.
Wind from the creek bed dancing in your hair.
There you are in the warrior wood.
Creating a dream where the old barn stood.
Catching the butterflies in jars of glass.
Laying in the sunshine in a mound of grass.
Woman of the wood,
You shall never leave.
Gone to the ghost for a long reprieve.
There you are in the warrior wood.
Dreaming us back in,
As a tree child should.
Building the house in dreams thru the wind.
Woman of the wood,
To begin again.”

🌹

Written by Lucia Sullivan ~ Copyright 2019 all rights reserved

*🧡*

https://www.psychicluciasullivan.com/
CLICK ON ABOVE LINK FOR LUCIA’S WEBSITE
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.

🌹

Gratitude & Appreciation to all artists & photographers ~ Credit given where this is known. Any queries, please contact me, Shekinah 

We wanted different things – Lucia Sullivan

Clarity by Lindy Longhurst @ Etsy

***

“We wanted different things.
You and I.
I coveted moments,
In tops of trees,
Limbs that held me in loving embraces.
Limbs that would not twist upward to harm me.
Limbs,
Incapable of anger.
I longed for moments,
In the old kitchen.
Where memories had faded decades,
Before I,
Had appeared.
I would stand in the cold moldy room,
Feeling the presence,
Of better times.
And those times,
Became my times
For a moment.
I longed for the sunshine,
Where the duck pond sat.
I heard that ducks once lived there.
And I loved them.
From the sound of it.
Though I,
Had never met them.
I longed for laughter.
So,
I made you all laugh.
I longed for love.
So,
I loved you all.
Ignoring the horrible bruising,
Of all of your rough edges.
I owned the sunbeams,
Over the fields that lit up a thousand Pines.
We wanted different things.
You and I.
You longed to own the land.
You longed to own the houses.
You longed to own the people.
As if they were dolls.
That you,
Positioned at will.
However,
I have escaped you.
Keeping the Carolina morning in my pockets.
The hidden hovels in my hands.
And the secrets of the ancestors,
Woven into my soul.
We wanted different things.
You,
And I”

  💙 🌿 🌺 🌿 💜

Written by Lucia Sullivan Copyright 2019 all rights reserved

~*~

https://www.psychicluciasullivan.com/
CLICK ON ABOVE LINK FOR LUCIA’S WEBSITE
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 Dollhouse – Lucia Sullivan

Auctions – Catawiki Antique doll – GB Germany

~*~

“The dollhouse stood in an open wood.
And the old doll hid like an old doll should.
Alone she sat in the shelter there.
Some tiny hands had left her care.
When I had wandered fast and long,
Where ditches and briars and bees belong.
The silence was a heavy and lost dimension.
Where time had left her in an untouched suspension.

As if to say,
“You do not belong”.
There was another who sang her a song.
And you are frivolous, hurried and fast.
The times once here have slowly passed. 
So,
I could see the doll had waited,
For her loving era that had long since faded.
I dared not touch her.
We sat together. 
The floor was dusty with a chicken feather.
She was sacred in her house out of time.
And I was hurried by the hot sunshine.
I still remember,
The silence there.
And how she hid and did not want my care. 

I travelled back,
Thru bush and berry.
Little feet thru moss,
I hurried.
Sometimes,
I imagined she was a dream.
Another place lost at the seam. 
I wonder if the earth has found her place.
Or if her era flipped its face.
And she,
Is back in the arms of her mother.”
Written by Lucia Sullivan  Copyright 2018 all rights reserved

~*~

https://www.psychicluciasullivan.com/
CLICK ON ABOVE LINK FOR LUCIA’S WEBSITE
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.

And the day was full of music – Lucia Sullivan

Artist Rola Chang

_*_*_*_

“And the day was full of music.
And the beams were full of light.
And the hearts were full of fluttering.
Hidden from your sight.
The angels hurried by the clouds.
The cherubs swam the sea.
The music of a harpsichord,
Faintly touched the breeze.
The ships,
They all were sailing.
Going where they may,
And all creation beat as one.
On high vibration day.
And the day was full of music,
That cleared the tattered heart.
And danced in all of the places,
That once tore you apart.
The beams of light repaired you.
The angels held your feet.
The ships all came to save you.
The high vibration fleet.
The past had faded,
Finally.
And the colors bled away.
And Oh,
What great excitement to create anew,
On high vibration day.”
Written by Lucia Sullivan Copyright 2018 all rights reserved

****

Lucia Sullivan

~*~

https://www.psychicluciasullivan.com/
CLICK ON ABOVE LINK FOR LUCIA’S WEBSITE

~*~

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.

****

Kellie couldn’t live there any more – Lucia Sullivan

Enchanted Forest by Jane Ray @ The Rose Gallery

***

“Kellie couldn’t live there any more.
There was no place to breathe.
No place to call home.
She had rattled the forest with tears;
At times.
She knew,
That only the ancestors and the Pines would hear her.
And they were too silent,
To speak back.
She talked by the creek to the wind and the water.
It soothed her like spring rain.
But it too,
Was too alive in some mystic dimension,
To speak back.

Kellie had gone from the country side.
Far from the winter ice that hung off of the willows,
Like diamonds shining in the sun.
She may never know the warmth of a home again.
It lay in her memory,
Like a heavy blanket in a creaky farmhouse,
Heated by wooden embers.
She knew that smell of wood and cold.
She knew those footprints that followed down three stones that she called a porch.
Home it seemed,
Was in her heart.
And she could not betray the nature of it’s surroundings.
Kellie couldn’t live there;
Anymore.

So,
It moved and lived within her.
And she became,
As mystical as the creek bed in the forest.”
Written by Lucia Sullivan  Copyright 2018 all rights reserved

~*~

https://www.psychicluciasullivan.com/
CLICK ON ABOVE LINK FOR LUCIA’S WEBSITE

~*~

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.

****

Artist Susan Seddon Boulet

Gratitude to artists for their beautiful art – credit is given where this is known.

Her wings turned into flower petals – Lucia Sullivan

Goddess of The Sun – png

****

“Her wings turned into flower petals in the garden.
She had been dropped among the seedlings to bloom earth colors.
But magical light came out of her buds.
Developing unusual colors that caused a panic in the garden.
Some pulled off her pieces and some dug at her roots.
But the petals grew back more intense and peculiar each time.
The sun was her honourable friend …
And the rain was her brother.
She learned that in them,
Was a family of her own.

The wind was a mystical sister.
Who blew her pieces of petals far away,
And out of the garden fences.
She pulled up her roots,
As any good flower would do.
And went on a journey across the garden,
To find them.
The moon was her loyal lantern.
Leading her in the darkest of nights.
Though she never recovered all of the petals,
She escaped the garden.
The sun, moon, wind and rain,
Had schemed to free her.
And she knew,
She would bloom again.
In a garden of mystical buds.
Found by the ancestors.”
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.

****

Gratitude to artists for their beautiful art – credit is given where this is known.
NOTE – ONGOING 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 change of email addresses.  If the old Link has been saved onto a device or Home Screen it just means re-adding this with the new Link (given below) OR finding any posts on my website using the Search Button. ♥ Shekinah El Daoud 
It may be necessary to re-subscribe to posts by email (if using the FOLLOW BUTTON).

https://shekinah-el-daoud.com/

****

I slept too long – Lucia Sullivan

Blue Mystic – Peter O’Neill Gallery

****

“I slept too long.
It seems.
Lying in a cocoon,
Of mystical dreams.
Healing those who had crossed my being.
Touching deeply without,
Them seeing.
I slept too long.
A job well done.
Awaking to,
The noon time sun.
And those who awoke hours ago,
May have felt me there.
I don’t know.
Bodily injuries,
Soul pains and bleeding.
An energy mystic,
Had soared thru their being.
I slept too long.
And when I arose.
My body was tired.
My heart was exposed.
But I,
In joyous wonderment,
Had known my sleep,
Had been well spent.
And the tones of the angels ,
Sound from far.
To remind me still,
Of where they are.
And I,
Am glowing.”

~*~

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.

****

Healing Angel by Tara Rieke @ Fine Art America

Gratitude to artists for their beautiful art – credit is given where this is known.
NOTE – ONGOING 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 change of email addresses.  If the old Link has been saved onto a device or Home Screen it just means re-adding this with the new Link (given below) OR finding any posts on my website using the Search Button.  Shekinah El Daoud 
It may be necessary to re-subscribe to posts by email (if using the FOLLOW BUTTON).

https://shekinah-el-daoud.com/

****

The Bird – Lucia Sullivan

Angel Wings by Carol Heyer

****

“I would rather be a bird above you.
So,
I,
Could fly far,
Far,
Away.
Against the windstorm of morning.
Into the pale, blue breaks,
Of day.
Away from the madness around you.
Sparkling in with the sun.
Blending in myriads of orange and blue.
Where magic flies free.
On the run.
Wings are a madness against me.
They brazen my cold pale feet.
And throw me into the horizon.
Where Angels and seen creatures,
Meet.
I would rather be a bird above you.
Following,
Tide, wind and rain.
Standing on beaches of sand and shells.
Awaiting a hurricane.
But,
Plucked from my back are my feathers.
And pulled from my sides are my wings.
And now I stand here on the seashore.
Admiring the little things.”
Written by Lucia Sullivan copyright 2018 all rights reserved

Yellow Winged Sugar Bird

___

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.

****

Gratitude to artists for their beautiful art – credit is given where this is known.
NOTE – ONGOING 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 change of email addresses.  If the old Link has been saved onto a device or Home Screen it just means re-adding this with the new Link (given below) OR finding any posts on my website using the Search Button. ♥ Shekinah El Daoud ♥
It may be necessary to re-subscribe to posts by email (if using the FOLLOW BUTTON).

https://shekinah-el-daoud.com/

****

 

The Sunshine In You – Lucia Sullivan

“The Sunshine In You”
“You were the lime light of white light.
In dust sparkles over mountain tops.
Purple skies going down over an orange mound of madness,
Bigger than the sun disc closing in on the night.
Monuments of nature turned into ants when your light showed up.
And I had become certain,
That you,
Were a galaxy of your own.
Built into a puppet of earth and interpretation.
Bigger than the eyes can see.
And aren’t we all?
This small body,
Is all that gravity could contain.
And as the sun went down on me,
It’s greatness reminded me of you.
So,
I reached up,
And pulled it from the edge of the mountain top.
Now,
I wear your smile forever.
In the tiny pockets,
Of my great soul.”

___

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.

****

Sun Queen by Inna-Vjuzhanina @ DeviantArt

Gratitude & Appreciation to all artists
NOTE – ONGOING 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 change of email addresses.  If the old Link has been saved onto a device or Home Screen it just means re-adding this with the new Link (given below) OR finding any posts on my website using the Search Button.  Shekinah El Daoud 
It may be necessary to re-subscribe to posts by email (if using the FOLLOW BUTTON).

https://shekinah-el-daoud.com/

****

She walked thru in braille – Lucia Sullivan

Tree of Life Mandala by Mary Ann Holley

***

“She walked thru the twilight in braille.
Into the new day of solid dreams.
Jagged ridges touched her fingers.
Interpreting the softness with light and dust beams.
Interpreting the roughness with forgiveness.
She walked thru in braille.
Not roping the words of finality,
Not holding the circumstances in her arms.
A walk on air.
Whistling from tall Maple trees pulled her to the edge of silent clearings.
There;
Perched in the tops on v shaped branches,
The ancestors called.
Shaking the branches and breaking the bark.
Just to speak to her light beam soul.
They used the braille of nature to sing.
So,
She had found her brothers.
She walked between two worlds.
Never having sight of two eyes against a daunting world.
Her third eye shined in its blueness.
In its wholeness.
In its oneness.
And lit up the world.
Like the Fourth of July.”

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.

Art: Green Goddess, Gaia – Emily Balivet

Gratitude & Appreciation to all artists
NOTE – ONGOING 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 change of email addresses.  If the old Link has been saved onto a device or Home Screen it just means re-adding this with the new Link (given below) OR finding any posts on my website using the Search Button. ♥ Shekinah El Daoud 
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https://shekinah-el-daoud.com/

****

 

 

 

When you left for too long – Lucia Sullivan

“The doors have all opened.
The roses have bloomed.
The wind is a current ,
That spreads her perfume.
The dust has blown by,
Across from the field.
And flew past my senses,
The wheel in the wheel.

The tractors have traveled,
Under skies that bled rain.
Making the earth smell,
Like a love lit hurricane.
The doors have all opened,
And I see you there,
In blue overalls,
With grey in your hair.

It was an era,
That welcomed me in.
Born in the dust and raised by the wind.
A farmer who grew and gathered and toiled,
Made freedom seem easy,
Made a little girl spoiled.
The doors have all opened,
The pages have turned.

We live and we wander.
We live and we learn.
The roses have bloomed.
The buds still remember.
When you left for too long.
In the last of December.”
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.

****

Image result for roses in vase

Fancy Rose in Vase @ Wayfair

Gratitude & Appreciation to all artists
NOTE – ONGOING 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 change of email addresses.  If the old Link has been saved onto a device or Home Screen it just means re-adding this with the new Link (given below) OR finding any posts on my website using the Search Button.  Shekinah El Daoud 
It may be necessary to re-subscribe to posts by email (if using the FOLLOW BUTTON).

https://shekinah-el-daoud.com/

****

Back into the specks of light – Lucia Sullivan

Artist Ginette Beaulieu @ Tutt’Art

****

“I will filter back into the flower foils:
Someday.
Back into the specks of light,
That sprinkle the wet morning.
When sunlight broke new,
Lighting up the tips of dewy pine needles.
Waving gently and welcoming me in.
Into the mysteries of the the under side,
Of life.
Back to the buds of blooming.
A new flower in the field.
Seedling,
Touching dark soil.
That blanketed me until,
I was ready to look down at her.
Backwards into the movements of no movements.
A split reel,
Played so many times.
That it was stripped from my memory.
So I,
Could grow in the flower field again.
Pulling up alongside the others.
Familiar,
But colors changing.
Dew drops will fall again,
From a fragile petal face.
Watching some too soon,
Plucked away.
I will go back to the flower foils someday.
And wave in the wind with my madness.
You will know me.
Multicolored and unusually bright and budding.
But always,
Moving up,
Towards the light.”
Written by Lucia Sullivan copy right 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.

****

Artist Zoltan Molnos @ Tutt’Art

Gratitude & Appreciation to all artists
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.  Shekinah El Daoud 
It may be necessary to re-subscribe to posts by Email (using the FOLLOW BUTTON).
https://lakshmiamrita.wordpress.com/

🌸🌸

 

The time catchers – Lucia Sullivan

 

 

****

“Somewhere out there,
The time catchers flew over.
Watching hearts with their night vision,
Just to see which one’s beat the hardest.
Looking for those that radiated the energy of the Angels.
Looking for the brightest spots in every chest.
The biggest and brightest of life forces,
Whistled love songs thru the cosmos,
And kept the world spinning.
Spinning round just one more time.
Again and again.
Cupids arrows pierced them.
Swells from hurricanes drown them.
Vultures tore them into shreds.
But the heart went on.
Beating harder and stronger,
With the courage of a thousand wild horses,
Running to the river.
A free heart you see,
Is a wild horse of her own.
Running to the river,
Every chance she gets.
Freeing herself,
Just one more time.
Running from the watchers,
And the time keepers.
Keeping her secrets in the summer rain.
Thru puddles and dim sunlight under shelters of Maple trees.
Hiding in the huddles of woods and creeks.
A free heart you see,
Is a wild horse of her own.
And she must ride,
Her own trail.
Far,
Far away,
From the beaten path.”
Written by Lucia Sullivan copy right 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.

****

Gratitude & Appreciation to all artists
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 Shekinah 
It may be necessary to re-subscribe to posts by Email (using the FOLLOW BUTTON).
https://lakshmiamrita.wordpress.com/

🌸🌸

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).

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

– ♥ –

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.