Poetry 2014

Monica R. Ashbaugh, 11/18/14

We need faith to live—
faith that there is something more,
something next,
something better,
a new tomorrow.
Living is an act of faith!



The 5 Senses Blessing
Monica R. Ashbaugh, 11/17/14

Let me see with more open eyes.
Let me hear the emotions hidden behind the words.
Let me smell the fragrance of joy and the odor of pain.
Let me taste, and learn to savor, the sweet and bitter of life.
Let me feel with a wholly open, untamed heart.
Let me live and love, without reservation, with my entire being.



Foggy Morning
Monica R. Ashbaugh, 10/26/14

Love emerged from the fog
Like an old man walking his beloved dog,
Unsure of the path ahead
But certain in the footsteps.

Truth emerged from the fog
The future hidden,
Clarity in the present,
And the past forgotten.

Faith emerged from the fog
Leaning on a walking stick
Keeping pace with life
Knowing peace.



Stay Here
by Monica R. Ashbaugh, 10/18/14

I can’t even allow you to go into that place–
that place of fantasy,
that place of dreams,
that place of passions,
that place of non-existence.

Stay here in this reality–
forget the ease in which you can slip away
into daydreams,
into wishes,
into hopes,
into desires.

Stay here in now–
shun illusions
for they are delusions.
For it never was,
it isn’t now,
nor can it ever be.
Accept this and live on.

Photo by:  Monica R. Ashbaugh, 4/30/14 Illusion

Photo by: Monica R. Ashbaugh, 4/30/14


Love Your Life
by Monica R. Ashbaugh, 10/8/14

Love your life.
It is all you have.

Love the beauty,
love the sad,
love the good times,
and love the bad.

Love the aliveness,
the always changing-ness,
the ever being-ness
of you.

Love your life

It is the living
and loving
expression of you
in this time,
in this reality.

Love your life
Live your life
for it is all you can do
with this “is-ness” of you.

Photo by:  Monica R. Ashbaugh, 10/18/14 Present Acceptance

Photo by: Monica R. Ashbaugh, 10/18/14
Present Acceptance


Ode to a Rainy Autumn Day
by Monica R. Ashbaugh, 10/3/14

O beautiful Autumn day,
Your rain smells wonderfully of
and leaf
and forest,
so different from the rains of summer and spring.
The perfume of sleepy endings
and quiet transformations.
Each season’s rain brings its own sweetness.

Photo by Monica R. Ashbaugh, 10/3/14

Photo by Monica R. Ashbaugh, 10/3/14



Long Live the King
~Monica R. Ashbaugh, 9/18/14

The monarch’s return triumphant–
Goldenrod and ironweed,
A cacophony of ambers and violets,
Wave and bow regally in the wind,
Whispering promises
Of Autumn not far away.
Russet-winged, stained glass majesty,
Alighting every breeze,
Continuing the long journey
To royal kingdoms unknown.

Photo by Monica R. Ashbaugh, 9/18/14 Goldenrod Hedgerow

Photo by Monica R. Ashbaugh, 9/18/14
Goldenrod Hedgerow


See Me
~Monica R. Ashbaugh, 8/24/14

Do you see me?
I feel you do
   Deep in my being.

We talk through images,
    In metaphors,

Or perhaps it’s my grand delusion
    and I don’t exist at all in your world.

Perhaps it is my narcissism
    that makes you exist in mine.

Is this real or vanity,
     Are our truths the same,

Do we share a singular reality,
     Or just this passionate insanity

Which dwells only in my mind
     And awakens in my dreams.


Photo by Monica R. Ashbaugh, 8/26/2014

Photo by Monica R. Ashbaugh, 8/26/2014


Once in Eternity
by Monica R. Ashbaugh, 8/11/14

I reach my hand into the stream
and feel the water running through my fingers.
I know that water will never pass this way again.
The water kissing my fingers is a once in eternity moment.
Our lives are once in eternity moments.
We shall never pass this way again,
this moment again,
these surroundings again.
This being again.
This is our once in eternity.

Photo by Monica R. Ashbaugh, 4/2013

Photo by Monica R. Ashbaugh, 4/2013



Diana and the Hart

by Monica R. Ashbaugh, June 25, 2014

Time is the Huntress stalking the hart of youth.
It is a dance of stealth in which the hart always succumbs.
Diana’s temporal arrows, can never miss her mark.
Mercy cannot prevail.
She is always victorious.
The sands may fill the hourglass
but the wisdom gained of a well-lived life is infinite and indomitable.




He Beheld
By Monica R. Ashbaugh, 5/19/14

He beheld her in his heart
For he could never behold her in his gaze,
Or embrace her in his arms,
Or speak the sweet words he longed to say.

So he cradled her in his being,
An ache that filled him,
A pain that tore at his soul,
And burned his eyes with unfallen tears.

He kept the thought of her tenderly
Locked in the deepest recesses of him.
Hidden safely from view.
And she never knew.


Photo by Monica R. Ashbaugh, 9/19/14 He beheld

Photo by Monica R. Ashbaugh, 9/19/14
He beheld




Beautiful Dream
By Monica R. Ashbaugh, 5/17/14

I lose myself in thoughts of you
Stolen moments from life,
Quiet minutes of ecstasy
A cardinal respite of
Salvation and redemption
And damnation,
In a beautiful dream.


Photo by Monica R. Ashbaugh, 5/17/14

Photo by Monica R. Ashbaugh, 5/17/14



Divine Reality
By Monica R. Ashbaugh, 4/14/14

Nature is the artistry of God,
God’s soul.
Science is the language of God,
God’s mind.
Humanity is the deeds of God,
God’s body.
Love is the purpose of God,
God’s heart.
We are born as incarnate divine for God to know Godself.
We are born for the Earth to see Her own face.
We are born to become one, as One.
I am.

Photo: Wikimedia Commons, Helix Nebula, Eye of God


Death’s Gift
by Monica R. Ashbaugh, 3/19/14

Today, I sat with Death.

He entered the room quietly
And sat solemnly
Beside his charge.

He waited patiently for life to run its course
To its inevitable conclusion.

He looked with mournful eyes
Having seen too many last breaths.

He sighed with the ancient compassion
Of a tired, old soul,
Having heard endless sobs and wails of love and loss.

He bent so closely the chill of him was palpable,
A shiver across my breast–
His kiss was soft and kind
Lightly brushing my cheek,
Like the downy feather of a baby bird.

His hand strong and knowing
Like a lover
Guiding me to ecstasy and release.

And we walked together,
Hand in hand, silently
Towards the pillars of eternity.

From: Wikimedia Commons, Samael, Angel of Death



The Full Measure
By Monica R. Ashbaugh, 1/23/14

Some measure time with a clock in ticks;
I measure time with a heart in beats.

Some divide the day into hours;
I divide the day into blessings.

Some divide the hours into minutes;
I divide the hours into miracles.

Some rush through the years mindlessly to their inevitability.
I pause and experience mindfully the exquisite patience of this breath.


Photo by Monica R. Ashbaugh, 9/5/2014

Photo by Monica R. Ashbaugh, 9/5/2014


Lotus of Life
By Monica R. Ashbaugh, 1/6/14

I grew,
and I learned,
but I learned too late.
But all is not lost.
I grew through the mud of my pain
and struggled with my grief,
trying to be better.
And that is my consolation.
Though it doesn’t change the past,
it is some comfort now,
and gives me hope to bloom
for the future.

Photo by Monica R. Ashbaugh, 5/7/2014

Photo by Monica R. Ashbaugh, 5/7/2014



Here there be giants.

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