RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Pulling threads of this poetical life together,
watching as they come alive, emitting an efferve-
scent beauty through enlightenment.
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Rhythms running deeply in this silent being, touching
every sense and synapse with an interior spirituality
that never can be taken away.
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Hearts of people feeling their way into minds filled
with whispers that no one else can hear, a feeling of
tears starting to appear out of nowhere.
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Hearts of people feeling their way into minds filled
with whispers that no one else can hear, a feeling of
tears starting to appear out of nowhere.
...

Music playing, people twisting and turning across
the floor, doing the line dance among other things,
getting creative.
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Music playing, people twisting and turning across
the floor, doing the line dance among other things,
getting creative.
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Music sounding like a pair of scissors cutting through
the atmosphere while musical rhythms are cut up and down,
touching minds that are steeped in rhythms of this night.
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Sliding up and down many measures of pleasure,
being taken into rhythms of living in a breath-
less moment of joy.
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Incessantly carrying melodies down pathways and trails
of beauty all gathered in deserts, arid and hot, hold-
ing onto wonder as sun shines down upon the rocks.
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Racing around beats of a drum, catching up to a voice of
strength taking us all into canyons of this desert, all
rolled into one giant stride into the mountains.
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