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.

I'll tumble for ya...

Today, standing staring into the water, I felt love's strong hand brush my face in the touch of the breeze. Would this ambrosial sensation have meant so much, ever, had life not readied me so? Closing my eyes I could hear the rocks tumbling in the sand at the mercy of the water. With no cares about from where they came or to where they were going, they simply danced as the rolling waves commanded. One particularly strong swell rushed in suddenly and the rocks' song exploded as my heart lit up. The wind wrapped itself around me.

Yours is the heart that plays the song my soul knows

In every touch of every breeze and

every rush of every stream 

Your gift of love in every flower's birth

is born in every bloom

With each new day and in every death

you shower me with your loving bliss

And I, the meek and curious soul

filled with wonder, shout

LIFE! 
      ........why do you love me so?