Among desire and flaming fires

My guardian Angel by Camino-Studios on DeviantArt

And so it is I am lost…Walking the divinity of your eyes
losing myself in their expression, in love and scars
of history past, among desire and flaming fires, in gentle
touches unknown to me. In patient whispers and a
protective stance,. and so it is that I am lost to a yearning,
deep and cumbersome, raw and inviting, primal and ancient
traversing the echos of time your eyes call to my soul…
and I am lost in their sea stepping ever closer, to be.

Karen Hayward©2017
Image found on pinterest,

artists name can be found on the image.

Silver petals falling. . .

blue-butterfly-wallpapers

I forgot
Momentarily.
I forgot to look to the skies
As silver petals fell from the celestial heavens ,
And then I saw, and then I felt,
the angels golden breath upon my brow.
Worn down by words spat from Satan’s mouth,
I wonder is he devil sent?
Again I look up, I look up high,
silver petals falling from celestial skies,
the angels golden breath upon my brow
I feel the presence of the earth,
I feel the essence of now.

Karen Hayward ©2017
Image found on Pinterest

Even the Devil doesn’t want you!

img_20160412_190400.jpg

Breathe in.
Deep.
Deeper.
Take the mornings
fragrance
into your soul.
Own it.
Know it.
It is the scent
of shame.
Never
forget it.

God, God’s
Deities, cosmos,
Angels, Gaia,
Science, Atoms
Spirits, nothing.

Breathe in.
Deep.
Deeper.
Feel the moist air.
Celestial tears
for the fallen.
Own it.
Know it.
It is the tears
of shame,
never
forget it.

God. God’s.
Deities. Cosmos.
Angels. Gaia.
Science. Atoms.
Spirits. . .
Nothing.

Breathe in.
Deep.
Deeper.
Listen. Listen
to your inner guide.
Hear the universe
as she speaks.
Karma has a voice.
The angels speak
in whispers.
God talks through
pray.
The earth screams
through leaves.

Our fallen,
angel wings
leave a trail of
shadows to
heaven’s gate.

God. God’s.
Deities. Cosmos.
Angels. Gaia.
Science. Atoms.
Spirits. . .
Nothing. . .
Stand guard.
Delivering.
Returning evil.
Waiting at the
gates of hell.

There is no glory
In blood
stained hands,
even Satan,
refuses to open
his gates.

Karen Hayward (c) 2017

Image and words

The essence of now.

img_20160105_125509.jpg

I forgot
Momentarily.
I forgot to look to the skies
As silver petals fell from the celestial heavens ,
And then I saw, and then I felt,
the angels golden breath upon my brow.
Worn down by words spat from Satan’s mouth,
I wonder is he devil sent?
Again I look up, I look up high,
silver petals falling from celestial skies,
the angels golden breath upon my brow
I feel the presence of the earth,
I feel the essence of now.

Karen Hayward ©2017
Image and words

Technicoloured essence. 


…And when the grains fall and life 

ebbs within the final beats

As angels call the finest greet, as 

clouds disperse and memories flow,

What will you have to show? 

The fearsome tales of love so close,

A life lived…Well most?

A bucket list of words not said, love not told,

A constellation of getting old.

Monochrome map in hues of safe

Kept moments never run late. 

A drawer of wishes, dandelions delight

Dreams reserved only for night? 

Not me…

The angels will invent new colours in my name,

They’ll blush with pride at this spirit untamed.

Their ink will run dry as they scribe my tales,

The wins, near wins and even the fails.

With fearless exploration I will devour my days,

No feeling will pass where i do not say…

Passion will be my ink, love will be my pen

And the angels will all whisper….”and then?,” 
Karen Hayward*©2017

Image and word’s.

Loves caretaker. 

Will you ever see you are the caretaker of my soul, 

as I wander aimlessly into the field of  of lost letters 

placed in perfect order to recreate the essence 

of humanity, I do so within the empty shell 

of my mortality. place me among the red petals of 

oblivion intoxicated by opium and I will lose only 

my beating heart for I am without soul 

If I am without you, the caretaker of my core. 
Karen Hayward ©2016 (Image and words) 

At the mouth of Eden.

img_20160423_194146.jpg

 

…and when I stand before gates of pearl at Edens mouth, our

creator calling my name on divine breath within a

celestial Kingdom, will I find you waiting beneath golden rays,

scroll in hand the calligraphy collective of pain scrawled upon

ancient paper? Will I recognise your face from the haunting moments

in my life that I beg to forget? Is the ink in which you write the essence of

every heartbreak I have felt and will I smell again the stench

of rotting death that has followed me in my darkest moments?

Or will I discover on entering the gates that all along you had

wings of such magnitude and upon that scroll is not a lifetimes

pain but a lifetimes achievements. And that the ink in which you

write truly is not the essence of pain but the collective jar of my tears,

each one a reminder to the Angels of Time why it is that they guard

Pandora’s box. And when I hear your voice will I instantly know

you were the birds that chirped at mornings dawn, the breeze that

whistled through autumn trees and the rain that tapped

upon my soul. And will you tell me that in my darkest

moments when my soul was being torn from my existence,

it was not my pain you were there to collect…it was my fear

and all that held me back.

 

Karen Hayward ©2016

 

Rain drops.

Rain drops, my dearest paradise fall upon my skin and cleanse my soul. Raphael, I know you hear my whispers, come, let’s sit by the open window and drink in the scent of life. The dark skies are consuming and the stars forgot today to twinkle like diamonds in a far of world. Do you hear the echo as each drop becomes a puddle? Do you hear the echo? Raphael wrap around me your wings of healing love, let us sit alone here and watch as the world is cleansed beneath droplets of heavens tears.

Karen Hayward ©2016