as the pain grows, it reminds me of the flowers
prose, blooming under the sun, and
often, on the
run
hiding in the shadows, and lurking just beneath
the surface, it rises like the tide, this
swelling in my
chest
it is
a
lifelong romance, just like the joy that lives on the other
side, when we abide, and take the center
in stride
we
come out, wide-eyed, with love as
our guide…
Photo by adriansiea, Pixabay
flowers hold a love
of their own,
petals, sepals, and
stamen, sewn, with
dewdrops of compassion shown
all
held together
in a gentle repose…
nature’s magnificence bestowed…
Photo by Glady, Pixabay
the tree grows taller, and
sometimes I feel smaller
than life as it manifests before me
moments like these
come and go, we know,
and yet, as they arise,
we continually strive…
to know
the answers, yet,
will we remember to abide…
instead
of fighting
against the current
we feel inside, let it subside
and know,
this energy
will carry us
toward
our final destination, a ride
for the ages
are we not all sages?
I know not, yet
won’t let the conversation
drop, because
it’s not
about dropping,
or stopping, more learning
to love
more than your heart
has ever known
the capacity for…becoming
like the flowers,
and the trees, did
you know they speak of thee…
every day, watching
as we run around
limiting what we see,
within this dream
yet, we speak, and, they see…
instead, maybe,
feel free, and just be…
Photo by Léonard Cotte on Unsplash
rock
splinters wood,
and you tried
as hard
as you could
in each instance
a different
set of circumstances,
presented, just as
the flower
reminds me
of the love in forever
we daydream,
and cast our nets
into the stream,
consciousness, in-between
you and me
far as it seems,
it is here,
and now, just
as it was
intended to be
a dream?
maybe, yet
does it really matter
to the flower, or
the stream…
they continue
to flower, and
continue to stream
regardless
of what comes up
on their inner screen
how serene, and
contemplative
is this dream
we call
a reality
of all
that we’ve gleaned
of a love so pristine
