The Holy Rocks By Maria Fokas The rocks hidden in the sky – They are not silent in my presence. They stretch as far as the eye can see; A reflection in the horizon: An element of past rememberance. A stir of wondrous light. No strangers here– As dusk sets in – I can hear them, The bells ring, in the empty light of warmth; beneath my feet. Continue reading The Holy Rocks
Photograph by Maria Fokas Setting of Beneath the White Willow – Novel by Maria Fokas Promise me, you will do the things we dreamt of doing together Promise me, and if we ever meet again – I promise to make things right. . . . Darkness has taken hold of me; there is no plea for my weakness But I will not forget: The times you held my hand, when I was far above the ground The times you held on, when I disappeared into the underworld And if by chance, you ever trip and fall; For doubt … Continue reading The Bridge to the Other Side:
Crazy Love Have you ever heard of such nonsense . . . + There cannot be only one truth; the truth as an answer to a question? – What makes the sun shine and the winds blow; do all things rest upon it; asking and answering the question yourself. . . In the depths of dreams, it could be a will to be remembered. The heart knows what the mind can’t fathom . . . But then again, the heart seldom knows much of anything, until the ink drops. © Maria Fokas / 2015/All Rights Reserved – Illustration by … Continue reading Crazy Love
Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not there. I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning’s hush I am the swift uplifting rush of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry; I am not there. I did not die. Mary Elizabeth Frye (1905 – 2004) Photographs by © Maria Fokas 29/7/2015/All … Continue reading Somewhere only we know
It happened on the thousandth year; From the center core of all our tears It stirred the darkness into light Souls were born from the depths of night: A raging struggle; just to hold on Like grave many times before With doubtful eyes he smiled at me – But one cold night, he could not sleep; My hope had touched his lips Out of the dream he ran to me But time had given up on him That mundane morning: Like the journey of a butterfly I awoke, with no more tears in me My darkness had surrendered By the … Continue reading A Thousand Years
The Sword by Maria Fokas My mind in helpless roam Antique dreams and harp whispers; Between losing and winning Hearts wintered in leaves that float ashore Shallow rays of dizzy lights – Mirrored in the dead of night I close my eyes again; The sword falls from my hand A word sharper than a sword Before we turn to stone. © Maria Fokas 2015/All Rights Reserved / Image: Gladiaotor/Warrior Stock Photos.com Continue reading The Sword
Soul Mate by Maria Fokas “Eat, Pray, Love: A true soul mate is probably the most important person you’ll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then leave. A soul mate’s purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, make you so desperate and out of … Continue reading Soul Mate
MOHER ROCKS by Maria Fokas Moher rocks pick me up Into the sky I want to fall Out of the kingdom of greed Lies fill the air with fear From the beasts that need my trust Struggle, regret, and doubt And beyond that point An echo of tears Then you smile And I am free © Maria Fokas 2015/All Rights Reserved – Photograph found in Lost in darkness/search Continue reading Moher Rocks
The Rocks by Maria Fokas © Maria Fokas 2015/All Rights Reserved – Photograph at http://wallpas.com/ballintoy-northern-ireland Continue reading The Rocks
The Art of Waiting by Maria Fokas A hush beneath the sea, whispers into each string of night; precisely, and endlessly. Dreams bend back on themselves, like fragile circles hoping to be traced. Where the two ends meet, the dream is nurtured; where the two ends part, the taste of sweet love remains – Each of the two circles is true, but the truths are not the same. And as the night wakes, our sun disappears beneath the earth; once more, no rest in waiting. The sea turns from deep blue to bright red; reaching words from land to land and … Continue reading The Art of Waiting
Luve-Knots 