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I dreamed of a golden leaf,
Floating down the river.
Brittle on the outside,
Facing the wind and sun.
Soft and supple underneath,
Drenched in life giving waters.
The work has all been done,
Fallen from the tree of life.
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Sun and icicles
Smiles and giggles
Of pure delight.
She only knew
Goodness and honey.
Her velvety skin
All loving and kisses
Quickly turned into
Fixing and wishes
Hoping to make it right.
But she trembled
When the ice tumbled
The sorrowful sound
Of the words mumbled.
Now her velvety skin
Stretched so tight
Like plastic wrap
Containing all her grief.
Desperate to preserve
The broken heart that lies beneath.
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“This is my body”
Winthin I am contained
For nearly sixty years,
Way beyond life’s middle.
But on the mat
Ignoring all my fears,
I fold into a Camel
Or a Cat.
I disregard the pain,
The countless daily struggles.
It’s a battle to sustain
Even a simple Mountain Pose.
Though I remain
A Warrior who says,
“This is my body”
The one my spirit chose!
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The mysterious call
is somewhat familiar,
As she sings my name
in the middle of the night.
Luring me back
to my true self,
To trust that I
have chosen well.
She sings with a sweetness
I have never known,
With notes that could
only come from the heavens.
Fear evaporates from
my heart,
As I recall
the comforting tone.
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The flame ignites
When you’re not looking.
Be vigilant and
Know the spark.
Don’t turn away
Cold and disheartened,
Plunging to
Your lonely dark.
There’s a smoulder
In your belly,
A combustion
In your bones.
Can’t you see
The fire light?
Can’t you feel
The heat, the power?
The flame ignites
When you’re not looking.
Wake up, don’t miss
Your brightest hour.
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Once my song
Was all I treasured.
Until I learned
To hear your part.
Now tears come to
My eyes when you sing.
I feel your sorrow
In every measure.
Of one breath
We pledge a choice,
To hear one anothers’
Beating heart,
And allow the
Blended harmony,
To embrace the others
Solitary voice.
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I am the one who
loves the smell
of earth at dawn
on a gloomy day,
when violet clouds
direct my path.
I am the one with
a mind that chatters
of all the things
I dare not say,
like fleeting dreams
or futile wrath.
I am the one who
walks through mist
and salty fog
at the edge of the bay,
where each sandy step
is like being kissed.
I am the one who
knows what matters
alone in my cottage
at the end of the day.
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