Poetry From a Quiet Mind

The water and the wind are wild tonight

and the shoreline is chasing my footsteps.

I am the reaper that has come to swallow my own heart

in this in-between place

where Heaven and earth are kissing in the twilight.

Glitter on the mountain shines, descending with the nighttime

like rainbow colored sugar dissolving on my tongue.

The sound of the wind has taken out all memory

of everything but this.

-Grace Garneau-


Your wishes for me, Beloved, resound in an echoing drumbeat through the vast canyon of my heart. There is endless space here as the wind carries prayers throughout eternity.

-Grace Garneau-


I will paint the air metallic gold with a stroke of luck. We emerge, after all, from thin air…and to sparkling dust return. The feathers of angel wings barely shiver on the surface of illusion, and this fluttering heart brushes with all of eternity…

-Grace Garneau-


All the ashes of the past have sunken, wet and heavy, into the river of life. Ruby red and resplendent water rushes along banks that glow with neon flowers flashing like fireflies. Magenta and orange spots of life are blinking and winking, and I am on the brink…on the river brink…at the edge of Force…

-Grace Garneau-


May the knots between the vertebrae be gently untied like the opening of a corset by The Divine Lover. May every ribbon and bow be untangled around this maypole of ancient bones to be set free and flying in the wind…

-Grace Garneau-


It is the Ocean of My Devotion that is crashing against my ear drums and receding –

receding, in pale splendor

as if pulling apart the curtains for the grand debut of a million suns flaring

Sing to me, please,

because my love is down upon the ground,

and carry me, please,

on this Current of Sound

until the final curtain falls, gently, like feathers, always floating down.

-Grace Garneau-


I am not this body, and I am not my blood. I am the Circulation Itself through every corridor and chamber of the manifest. I drink from the chalice of changes, unending…a potion of perpetual motion.

-Grace Garneau-


How brilliant can bright blue be in the perpetual piercing of this unblinking eye? A line of vision, an unbroken gaze, is aimed like an arrow at One Heart. This is the dartboard of creation – One Heart centered in The Infinite, Circular Blue.

-Grace Garneau-


To whom does being broken come like scattered shells on pebbles of sand?

Over whom does color wash like a glaze?

Whose perimeter is effervescent and crashing against the edge of the edgeless?

To Whom does the light shine back from at the brightest point of reflection…brilliant, blinding, unbroken?

-Grace Garneau-


I rest my weight in the Luminous Body of Love. There is nothing to uphold for I am being upheld…

-Grace Garneau-

Share This