Mysti S Milwee – Paper Dawn

Profile Mysti Milwee LE P&W Mag August 2019

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Paper Dawn, poems by Mysti S Milwee

Mysti S. Milwee is an American/Native American, an Internationally published and award winning poetess, synesthesia writer and artist (artist who paints to music) from Southside, Alabama, USA. Her art and literary works have been widely published and used for studies in over 8 countries globally. Her art and literature has widely appeared in numerous magazines, e-zines, journals, etc. across the USA and abroad. Her works have been used in academic studies and ministries across the globe.  She is an illustrator/ writer with SCBWI (Society of Children’s Book Writers & Illustrators), and is an International Collaborator in Arts & Literature. She is the poet/poet laureate of Fire Eagle Ministries outreach group. Her Book cover Art appears on “Of Sand and Sugar”, a collection of poetry by Scott Thomas Outlar and will appear on the upcoming Albanian Poetry Anthology with Transcendent Zero Press. To know more about her visit,

Paper Dawn

Through the burnt grass that
breaks paper thin, when wiry grass ages –
worn and torn at its roots
longing for the rain.

The petrichor that emanates in the fields
of wheat, and the rye bread of life
breaks when left to dry
where chard’s of wheat once stabbed her eye.

As the dawn breaks and her pages wear thin
waving her paper thin dress in the sunflower
fields, reflecting colors of yellow
raining rainbows of reflections.

In her paper dawn dress, washed in color
from grandfather sky to the valley
bathed in sunflower seeds that sow
growth of love and wisdom.

Safety Net

Life changes in the blink of an eye
as torn pages wither for new beginnings
stumbling upon the shore towards an open door –

if only I could hide under the sea when
a blanket of waves crash over me, for if then if I
drown in sea-green seas, would anybody cast

a net to save me?

Lost at sea, even when a thousand people
shower me with only one boat afloat, when a ray of
light cast down then and only then

in the still of the moment it was Jesus and I
casting prayers in His open window from the
sky, reflecting in my eyes, to the

depths of the darkness beneath me.

With only one paddle full of strength, anchored
in His armor, a force of wind propelled living;
carried along and down white sandy beaches

to the height of the pier and being raised up to the
heavens, knowing my Jesus is always there;
when the sea hung over my back like a curtain

weight of darkness and despair

Where truth was found in every dark rusted box
that became unlocked by the hands of God
releasing my silence to speak.

Embracing Auras

Birds watching while
sun gazing

watching freedom fliers
kiss the sun-bleached


that hung over tall pines
wrapping around

golden halos.

Beaming auras proclaim
heaven exists

in an after-glow.

Sunset beams a plethora
of radiant colors

set under the crescent
luminescent half – shaped moon;

Where angels sit and watch
over people

seeking a ray of light and hope;

For a new day to rise above
the noise

embracing the voice of – God!

Into the Unknown

In the moonlight
under the stars
at midnight
in the garden where
the light rendezvous

with darkness.

Cascading meteor
showers of gravity
meets the core
of mother earth
melting a path of

passionate fire.

Between destiny
and fate, where
every road of the
unknown shapes
the core of life that

changes the shape of things.

Ascending To Heaven

Radiant rays of yellow
beam to the heavens
leaping for faith from the
hollow hell fire brim.

Rim the sphere of the sun
and paint it black where
the edge embraces the
stronghold of faith.

Inner-weaving musical interludes
of wisdom from word weavers
that scale tall towers reaching
for the ray of heaven.

Where Should We Begin?

Through the wonders of the world
rivers come to flow
mud to build and sculpt where
lies of fault ripple through

latitude and longitude

the equator stood still with no beat –

the philosopher speaks retreat
extending finger pointing outward


with wit and wisdom with no end.

Discovered brick and mortar, the
irony of a disfigured world;

masqueraded by the fiery core
magnetized at birth as

liquidation rises the rivers ,
slow-moving liquid and

oxygen in the air –

how the wonders of the world
the gateway to the unknown –

For if we don’t believe in the core,
then therefore…..

where should we begin?

© Mysti S Milwee