The Life of a Waterlily: Free from wondering who it is. Blessed with unique beauty, that radiates between the ribs. Springing forth like a gusher unleashed, purposed to give notice to loves feast. Pushing the boundaries of yesterday's roots, to look for a day that brings new fruit. Creating space to take to the hills, in a journey that fills a waterlily pond with the essence of a new dawn. 

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The Lion and the Lamb: The color of his being in me is as a rainbow of fresh mountain dew. Soothing and reassuring in listening to the silence when feeling the touch of you. The color of his being in me is tender yet secure. It moves with the passion of his love, and I am made sure. The rest this place holds makes the color of his being in me, so magical and bold. Much like the rushing river that roams far and free. Just as an eagle that soars through the sky as a symbol of what's to be. The color of your being in me twinkles like the stars, acting as a saving key that heals my inner scars. For it is the color of your being in me keeps one set apart and sustained like a deeply rooted tree that can not soon depart. 

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The Magic of Now: Stained glass window panes multi-colored, and each one not the same. Purposed to shed light on their value is beyond earthly gain. Stained glass windows panes sealed in gold, releasing one to begin to allow the magic of this moment to unfold.

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The Quest of the Monarch: Monarchs only live a day. And yet the beauty is here to stay. Donkeys kick and make a lot of noise, reminding me too many like to play with toys. Snakes slither to make their mark, and yet when confronted, they have a sharp bite. Lions roar and roam about while little lambs seek to take a different route. Restless winds take down the one with no root, and at the same time, a tornado can destroy hidden fruit. Seaweed and ocean waves can create a lot of fear; while the sunrise draws us near.

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The Real Deal: The vessel you see may not add up, despite what you think it "is" more than a broken cup. Released to journey in a place of hidden light, that is purposed to reveal a treasure box of insight. Just the same, you want to tell me I am off track, making a point to tell me what you think I lack. No, the vessel you see is not at all what you describe. It is much more than what one person can surmise. For being left in a fire and on one's own, a bit of clay and the rarest of gold, becomes a precious gemstone.

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The Song of the Nightingale: Observing the beautiful birds, in my neighborhood, I think birds have the advantage and are misunderstood. Looking for food where they find it and tossing what's unused, they make their way without the exhaustion of being confused. Living without striving to continually compete, it would seem they live a blessed life even though they live on the street. Listening to the sound of the nightingales, I am spelled by the gentle notes that prevail. Nightingales make their journey, in the night, as graceful as a songbird in flight. These birds seem oblivious to those within their sight. These birds seem oblivious to those within their sight. Continuing the melody day after day, I see them keeping their lives full of adventure with no need to stray. And, it is obvious to me that the story that nature tells is as a piece of the puzzle that is purposed to bring one under its spell.

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View-Finder: A puppy does not know how to not chew through shoes, the papers, and the things that are new. A cat will sleep for hours and then wants to play games. I think with babies, it may be the same. A star will fall from the heavens, and the sun will shine, and even the rain will feel like it's a sign. A bird will sing love songs in the midst of a storm. My heart will mend soon and find a new norm. A rainbow brightens the path even for a moment because it's to be that way. A spring will find its way to the sea to be set free, and I will not let hard times be all I see!

 

Wild and Free:  If I were an eagle, I could soar above it all and not carry anything but the truth inside me. If I were a rainbow, I could light someone's day with a momentary treasure and unwrap an inner key. If I were a mountaintop, I could provide a view rarely seen in the valley and lowlands below. If I were a mirror to things unseen, I could restore someone's vision to hold on to one's dreams. If I were a rushing river, I could remove all that creates a mind that says to hope 'never.'

If I were a redwood standing majestically tall, I could shade the weary traveler from taking a fall.

If I could not be as any one of these, I would be content to be as gentle as a spring breeze, wild and free.

 

Wishing on a Star: You have to kiss a lot of bullfrogs to get a prince, they say. And yet, in my mind, there's no reason to think it's the only way. You have to put yourself out there if you want to meet the right one.  And yet there is little hope these days of going out and not wanting to run. You have to look ahead and not behind, or there will be no time. You have to be ready and yet not really looking, and then that's when you will find. You only have to be who you are, and therein it is enough to catch the light of wishing on a star.

 

Winter Melt-down: Subdued by the fog that greets the day. Lost in thoughts of beaches far away. My spirit has the strength to take flight, knowing I am not wrong or right. Left to think on too many things, my mind can not function with too many strings. Releasing all that obstructs my view, my heart feels cold to what is simply not true. Just the same I am trying to align my path with awakening to this change in time. Weaving a pattern in a soft and gentle wind tells me, it's ok to begin again.

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copyright 1991 and beyond

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