little yellow flowers

 

Clearing the stagnant clutter

in the pile of good intentions

to find only one little remnant

of a memory which I once thought to love

Hadn't I exorcised this demon

a hundred times before?

Had I not freed the hostage

of my will, my hope, my yearning?

The little yellow flowers meant

nothing to me in terms of wishes

anymore, nothing instead of reality's dream

now just the day's light, burning

And yet I stared, wondering

what

why

when

how

why not?

And when I let it go

I saw beautiful yellow flowers

for what they were and

not for what I had once wished them to be

For they are beautiful

and love is always lovely

and only weightless, soaring high toward heaven

can we fill the emptied, ready heart with glee

Last year I rented a dumpster to dispose of the unnecessary, remnant junk that was weighing me down. I THOUGHT I might have trouble filling it. But I filled it three times, each time to the point of overflowing. Sometimes you have just got to burn down the house. And sometimes, what survives becomes the surprise gift you never saw coming. Gratitude for good, in spite of bad. Let me always be bathed in this grace, and in the love you gave me- even if it was just for a little while. 

 For everything that is bathed in the light of grace, is, and always will be, love. 

Bow to your own heart, your greatest teacher.