Patricia Thacke

Searchlight, Nevada, USA

The still legible childhood notes, once hastily scribbled in the margins of now old and tattered music books, as well as paintings, sketches, and remnants of poetic verse are all living strands of memory stretching our over a lifetime of hope for the betterment and unity of mankind. Yet--unity is a drama of time--which like poetry, reveals itself. So people everywhere can share the same abstract vision; even though the current worldwide social problems confronting our world today and the impending global crises gathering on the horizon of human events loom ever closer by the hour.

Man_Hu

The Branch yearns for Man_Hu
For there is a deep passion
Which overwhelms the soul;
It slumbers within the depths of awareness
And touches the heartstrings of destiny.
The Source, from whence was unfurled the shroud
Of darkness to touch the morning light,
Issues forth the inner passion from out of
The primeval essence of that which is self-existent.
The Vine knows the heart of the yearning branch,
And yields the covering dew which nurtures
The rich ripe fruit with the hidden Man_Hu
Of the Bread from Heaven.
But, from out of the incessant depths of yearning,
The inner being cries out in its struggling passion,
And seeks to drink in of the Living Water
Which flows forth from the fountain of life.
Man_Hu? Man_Hu? The branch calls out
To you across the moments of time;
Man_Hu! Comfort your branch--for it longs to be refreshed.
The Song of the harvest echoes through the mist of the ages,
And its eternal refrain brightens the fruit of the vine;
Man_Hu cover your branch with the dew of heaven
And the life-giving properties of your ever-eternal
Descending Light.

Daugher of the Wind

I am Time-Walker--daughter of the wind;
I play among the lofty mountain crags,
And dance upon the whispering water
Falling from cascading heights to rest
Within the depths of the quiet
And shimmering forest pool.
I fly with expectations across the rainbow,
And nestle fondly among the leaves
That sleep with dying grace upon
The bosom of the restless earth.
Yea! Hear me--daughter of the descending wind--
The one who dances in the starlight;
Recite a rhapsody for your rainbow of light,
And play it upon the cosmic harp of the stars;
And if you call to me, sweet creation,
I shall send forth abundant life--
From out of the glowing embers of reality,
Which pulsate within the vastness of the warp of time.