A girl once wandered along a field of flowers, feet bare
Carefree and unafraid of what she might encounter there

She knew the thorns she removed from her staunch heart
were the launching point, from the point of depart

With the promises that come with the freedom of wings
that portend magical Hope and other beautiful things.

She stopped in the midst of flowers abounding
held out her arms to soak in the sun’s rays astounding

Her head raised high, her eyes serenely closed
no more tranquil an image could have been posed.

♥

Soon thereafter, a feather from the heavens fell
suddenly appearing, as if cast from a spell

It gently danced and glided, sought out her hand
as if searching for a place to land

A feather of the most vibrant hues
like the flowers; reds, yellows, greens and blues.

No sooner had the feather ended its flight
there followed a most ethereal sight .

It was the most exquisite bird,
and suddenly,
something within the girl’s staunch heart stirred.

♥

On her outstretched hand, the bird gracefully landed,
peered into her soul, her attention it commanded.

Resplendent and fine, its feathers in all those dazzling hues
like the flowers; reds, yellows, greens and blues.

She could not help but caress those fine feathers,
as she stood amidst the irises and the heathers.

The bird sang a melody so sanguine and so sweet
only briefly it lingered in sorrow,
a song reminiscent of times long past,
and a subtle promise of tomorrow.

♥

As the bird then moved to the palm of her hand
its beauty, a stunning mesmerization;
the awareness that it may soon fly away
was a sudden and terrifying realization.

She held it with care, grateful for each moment
treasuring each offering like a gift from a lover
Is your heart here to stay, she wanted to ask,
or does it belong to another?

You are not from this place, she thought to herself
You belong in paradise, your heavenly abode
Are you visiting, dear wanderer? Or lost, searching for home?
Still pursuing a path along your designated road?

How easy it would be to close that hand
hold the exquisite bird there forever..
It would sing to her every day,
A bond that would not sever.

But love is not of a forced possession
In her being, this she knew.
That vibrant light would surely dim
There would be no more vibrant hue

♥

And so she wandered on in the field of flowers,
towards the blazing horizon of the dusking sky.
The majestic bird perched upon her open hand
as it sang the songs of days gone by.

Fear remains, along with many thoughts awoken
they set behind the fiery orange-crimson sun,
they hide behind fragile promises spoken,
and gold-gilded intentions begun.

Twilight descends, infused with the disquiet dark brings
accentuated by the stillness of night..
‘but the morning brings strength to her restless wings*’
and Hope, emerges with the Light.

“The story of love is not important. What is important is that one is capable of love. It is perhaps the only glimpse we are permitted of eternity.” ~ Helen Hayes


Some of us never find true love, so we don’t even know what it is.
We cannot fathom what others are feeling.
Love cannot be taught in any school, as Rumi says.
Some of us, if we are lucky, are given a taste..
a small taste
so we may long for what is to come.

So we find love or love finds us
Sometimes we fall in love and love remains unreturned,
   remaining distant despite our prayers, our hopes, and our wishes..
Sometimes love is returned and we experience its divine gifts and get a taste of heaven
And the world just seems a better place through the eyes of love.

But this world is temporal;
and within it, true love can only be temporal.
It comes and it goes
It pains and it bleeds
It awakens some and puts others to sleep.
It is highs.. and it is lows.
It gives.. and then it takes it all away.
It conceals, it deceives, it distrusts.
Perhaps that is why most people are so cynical
Convinced that true love does not exist at all.

But I know that it does.
I have seen it
I have felt it,
… I have become it.
And I crave the glimpses though I know they are merely that;
small and temporary windows into a world we hope to reach one day.
Where all there is
is Love.


“We can’t help being thirsty, moving toward the voice of water.”
~ Rumi

You will find me where the stars cluster
in familiar constellations,
for the courage I could not muster
left me basking in your subtle revelations

Seeking answers and asking questions:

Why is it that we want the ones that don’t see us
instead of the ones that do..?
Why is it so hard to see
the someone that sees you..?

♥

A raindrop

landed upon the petal of the rose ,

lingered there  ~

refined in elegant repose.

The rose laughed

in joy

and fragrant bloom.

♥


Then slowly,

delicately,

the raindrop slid,

until finally

it descended to the soil

in respite.

♥

Absorbed by the earth

to the roots it would flow,

unbeknownst to the rose

still there to help it grow.

♥


The rose

in sorrowful solitude

then looked up to the sky

from whence the raindrop came ~

its leaves held up in gratitude.

And in abundant mercy

the rain softly fell

from above.

♥

This is Love.

♥