‘’Ghosting Life’’

•April 21, 2018 • Leave a Comment


An image, though veiled

A spirit has sailed to the other side

A dimensional tide

Experience shown

In a vast unknown

That soon becomes home

Energies pulsing

As loved ones come rushing to be by your side

Like a translucent mirror

Life flashes before you

Now light is your ride

Calling out through the blackness

No one seems to notice

You are still alive

For a faint moment a feeling, a touch, a smell

Bonds of etheric waves

You call out through the veil

You touch and you feel

Response is nil

But a shiver and a look

As your shadow dances

Upon the nook of remembrance

Loved so much, memories are the gift

Forever connected until the shift

Where time no longer matters

As you climb the ladder of selves

Love is never lost

It’s captured within the mists

Of the heavenly host

And rains down upon the ghosts of the living

©4/8/2018  Pamela Hope


‘’Oops, God did it again’’

•March 21, 2018 • Leave a Comment


Oops as we step on toes…

Our thoughts dividing with our prose

Many would revolt and smack your nose

But I suggest a cup of tea and a hug

Yes, that’s what I propose


We all express our thoughts

Definitions of which are naught

But beliefs our psyche has bought

Each of us must grow

Some rebel and show

How much media has taught


There is always another way

Getting self above the fray

See a higher ground

Above chaotic sound

Impressions no longer of import

Nor mindset able to distort

A Divine Plan


Oops, God did it again!     🙂


©3-21-2018  Pamela Hope


•January 16, 2018 • Leave a Comment


seasons come and go
like a scribe’s pen
instruments foretelling their part
in this fairy tale of long ago
repeating the journey
not knowing anything but this wheel
set adrift on the infinite sea
no contact with steering nor keel

trusting this parallel journey
to an infinite source
again and again we are tossed into the wind
no matter how fragmented
we show no remorse
these weathered shards of glass
smooth from the ages
glisten with new beauty

© 12-18-2015 Pamela Hope

Unwind the Mind

•January 16, 2018 • Leave a Comment

heart angel

What does it take to unwind the mind?

For some it may be peace and quiet

For others, a fine wine

But all that is but surface

Is what I am finding

As the world as we know it

Is now unwinding

Everything that was

Systems in this race

Are being uprooted

In discovery,

Shown not a safe place

Releasing all beliefs

To be open to better quality

Is not an easy task

When you live in duality

My unwinding is a daily ritual

Quite lonely at times

As I do not enter the fray

Remaining quite individual

Cocooned in my bubble of time

Vulnerability, does that ring a bell

Better festooned in my bubble

Than living in an unwinding hell


©1/7/2018  Pamela Hope



•September 29, 2016 • 1 Comment


What is image?
Can we really know?
Is it only own vision set to perception?
Or, a created reality just for show?
Who are we, really?
Have you given it serious thought?
Do you feel any yearning in your gut to know,
Or perhaps within your heart?

What others see, is it our projection out
Or their projection in?
How much suffering has lain before us at this hand of perception?

What are we?
Are we this image or the image maker?
Can we shift their view with slide of hand and mirrors
To be understood as an awakener?
A risk taker, with no risk at all
Since perception is the tide and tale of any fall.

Image… create this body that glides through life…
Or slithers around life’s periphery .
Keep it sane, yet filled with wonder.
I wonder who others see me to be?
Such a dichotomy, for sure…as I have yet to come to terms with me
Or any image of what I chose to be…
Besides being perceptionally contrived by society.

©9/27/2016 Pamela Hope

The Ivory Puppy

•February 5, 2016 • Leave a Comment

pup an ape

‘’The Ivory Puppy’’

The cute ivory pup
So innocent and filled with life
Born to a place on the Indian street
No one to care
No one to save its life

Saddened, as I walk by and glance back
Play, as it did, on the manhole cover
Traffic streaming past its curled tail
I worried for its life as if I were its mother

Nothing is possible for me to do
But detach from God’s creation
This ivory puppy, so cute
Soon to meet its mutilation.
My heart cries. I can do nothing
But walk and look back,
As if it were just hallucination.

©2/5/2016 Pamela Hope

‘This February Morning’

•February 4, 2016 • Leave a Comment


Silence with a wisp of wind
Fans blowing through dew morning
Black birds cawing out,
Their life has begun anew
Mentally aware of the colors to present,
Souls who are dressed as beauty,
The kaliedescopes of India
Horns bellowing in the din
Bodies anxious to go nowhere
Yet following their masters
Sellers, beggars, elaborate sidewalk shops to reassemble each miracle morning
Cannot walk, but to dodge the vehicles,
Wheels of various numbers doing a dance on the pavement,
A mix of concrete blocks, stone, black top, interspersed with holey interruptions
Walking along the streets becomes a test of faith and awareness
Smelling the putrid air, canal fouled by untrained humanity
Yet, notes of sandlewood entice my senses
So I am guided, an enchanted pathway,
Steps induced by fingers of fragrance touching my soul
Marsala overtones entice my stomach
I begin to wake up
Suprabhat, Good Morning
India, a place I call home.

Beauty Krishna

©2/3/2016 Pamela Hope

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