RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Music crushing tonight with a vibrational energy taking this poet rapidly into musical rhythms of melodies that soar far into this poetical being.

Unafraid to rise into a bluened atmosphere of the Divine alone and hungry for the peace of our Lord completely, just waiting for Him to say when.
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Tones bouncing about taunting mind and intellect mercilessly, but not even minding, just loving every sound being played into this splendid night of rhythms.

Opening up, exploring measures of music indefinitely throughout the night, mind moving through neural pathways, synapses jumping up and out of the way.
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Sounds of LaPalma now reverberating in and throughout this atmospheric environment, straightening out many thoughts that are inconclusive for one reason or another.

Reliving past memories that are possibly interrupting a really great time as steady rhythms continue beating pleasantly from a tambourine.
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Living in an abandoned life, paying the price of being born into poverty, somehow not minding because Mom was such a good person, always smiling and positive no matter what happened.

Today, having her disposition, always listening to music and being rewarded in its rhythms totally throughout this temporary life, enjoying life in a positive energy and attitude always.
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Sun being hidden behind clouds hanging low in the sky, black and white, looking like rain coming soon to this Arizona desert.

Wind kicking up, palm trees being bent over, in a strong wind now crossing our paths, hoping this storm passes over.
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Life being situated in music treating this mere poet to an everlasting voice that's amplified in and through poetry while listening and enjoying its rhythms.

Roaming around, touching an interior spiritual life while at the same exact time bringing an intense impression of an innate wisdom and knowledge.
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Registering rhythms in patterns and designs being created in and through rhythms of music calming mind and intellect in a very select atmosphere, totally intensifying every sound and tone as it's heard.

Palpable and energetic in an interior environment that continues to rise into another dimension far from earth, this mere poet able to register its accents upon life while thinking and soothing an intense curiosity forever within.
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Rhythms reaching for this poetical being, wanting to get up and dance like when younger, never sitting out a single solitary dance, always on the dance floor all night long.

Such a wonderful way to exercise, always was very slim and trim back then, dancing to the Orange Blossom Special with one of my brother-in-laws because my sister couldn't keep up with him.
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Twisting, turning, finding self immersed in rhythms so deeply, enjoying their sensations as they took this poet swiftly across the dance floor, a smile on this poetical face.

Heart elated and spirit soaring into another dimension, it's atmosphere being totally captivating in a poetical process as subconsciousness opened widely.
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When working at Little Sisters of the Poor always being chosen to take care of the nuns and priests who were dying, along with any of the other patients who were also dying.

Loving the level of spirituality finding self in, doing whatever needed to be done, going above and beyond always, knowing these people would by dying soon.
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