Mother Earth


Mother earth, belly round,

with native children of your womb,

A sacred space creating each,

an abundance of a coursing river.


Mother earth, eyes of sky blue,

through your vision, we can see,

the dream of all we are today,

and tomorrow’s flight of fantasy.


Mother earth, tears of changing sea,

with the wind your storm is fierce,

or lulling away in peaceful breeze,

to celebrate each tiny magnitude.


Mother earth, volcano of passion,

with heat overflowing within,

creating new direction in a temper,

paving new earth in renewal.


Mother earth, goddess of our birth,

spirit moving, everything is you,

pulse of your core, pulse of our heart,

the magnet of our true design.


Mother earth, we are all one being,

as a brain with many moving thoughts,

consciously forming in your divine way,

a harmony by witnessing your grace.


Mother earth, I bow in solemn praise,

Every bit of you dwells, in every bit of me,

the magnificence of your very essence,

A seed of my own blood, ripe in discovery.


~ jeffrey vionito


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Melts into Love


In the cool water of evening,

The town gathers, in youth and wisdom,

new friends and old strangers,


to watch the stars and planets

romancing in the heavens.


As the sun kisses earth

farewell, it holds the door

to welcome the moon.


You would think the sun

is the more stoic of the two,


but it always melts

into Love, every time

they say goodbye.


~ jeffrey vionito

picture by:

Rain of Grace



Today is a good day

to sit by the window,

and watch the darkened sky

bathe flowers, splashed

with earth.


Life suffers

in the soil of yesterday’s dust,

made heavy by the rain of grace

shifting towards freedom.


Today is a good day

to be still, and witness,

as vibrant colors return with joy,

to the wings of flowers

ascending burden.

One drop at a time.


~ jeffrey vionito


Picture by:


Scent-ual Wonder



If only we knew,

the sweet longing of that

which brought us here.

How the universe

selflessly gave way

to atoms; like stars,

to form constellations

of us all.

If only we felt

the purpose embedded

in our woven roots,

the way

trees leaves turn up

before the rains comes.

How our souls

would give without doubt,

knowing the blissed

bounty they would find.

Just a dash of sol,

to a tiny seed pinched in soil;

a pocket of scent-ual wonder,

grows towards a sun

it has never seen.

~ jeffrey vionito

He Did it for Love


So the dreamers can still dream,

And the artists could keep creating.


He did it for the poor, simple man,

giving buoyancy against the tides of life.


To the penniless, uneducated women,

with children and no father to provide.


And to the homeless beggar on the street,

Resting in wheel chair in December.


Jesus revealed to us, the sacred bridge,


for the 14 year old prostitute, running

away from the demons in her house,


to the 15 year old orphan since birth,

living in the only home he ever knew,


and all the addictions of our human minds,

helping to set us free from our mental prison.


Jesus showed us the way across,


Even to the convicts that understand,

the way they should have once been,


to the thieves that always felt empty,

after filling their pockets with guilt.


Jesus lifted the ones that never thought

they were good enough to be anything,


For you and me, and everyone in between.

Jesus still gives completely, with nothing to spare.


He carries death’s burden of a cross,

and the endless torture of a world.


Dripping the pierced nectar of suffering,

caused by the hands of ignorance.


And still! He pointed towards Love…

And still! He pointed towards Love…


the only path leading to his father’s

kingdom of Higher Love.


Jesus lived to show us the way

to live beyond our death and suffering,


He did it,


because we could not see above

the mountain of his timeless heart.


The summit of his Love was so high,

that he would live in the deepest valley,


just to keep the river from washing us away.


~ jeffrey vionito


Birdhouse of My Soul


These midnight birds at my window,

always cooing while I try to sleep.

Tap-tap of their fluttering flashes by,

rustling the silence I am trying to keep.


I am a grown man learned to handle,

the many complex things in my time.

Yet here in bed, restlessly disarmed,

I am the victim of a flocking crime.


I can’t bear the sound of noisy traffic

driving through the tunnel of my mind.

Tomorrow I shall wake before they do,

to see cause for the commotion I find.


Through the window I sit beside them,

just before the midnight rooster’s call.

Eyes are closed in wings of their dreams,

snuggled close they find warmth for all.


The waking babies are scooting closer,

to the beating breast of their momma.

Little mouths are opening in hunger,

awakening weary eyes of their papa.


Wobbling to his feet, stretching his wings,

taking off with a thrust, in rush and return,

his beak is abundant of wiggling food,

that the young ones so desperately yearn.


So happy he is, to care for his babies,

he hops around and Coos like a king.

And I smile wide in that quiet moment,

As my compassion starts expanding.


Inner harmony was born to give away,

all my knowledge for a golden dimple,

of how being present in understanding,

bears nature’s calling, loving and simple.


I offered myself to their window view

And found myself lost in their way.

As their sounds of cooing and tapping,

ushered in the greatness of each day.


Opening to the natural call of my soul,

offered a space where they can freely fly.

In the revealing, of their giving wings,

I let them quietly become my lullaby.


~ jeffrey vionito