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.

The heart of God

You must have been the heart of God
when Love was what God thought of

In the radiance of your loving kindness
You ignited the sky's lights by the billions

And in morning's gift of sky so blue, I swear-
God loves me more, when my thoughts are of you

In you, so right, I am blessed and beloved
for you must have been what God thought of

When God first thought to Love

I AM Laura

Thirty-two days into my hiatus of hoping...

Thirty-four days since my heart has hurt. As with anything that I choose to do (and I can do anything I choose), it's just a matter of wanting to. So I granted myself six months in which to finish healing my body and regaining my strength, unleashing the bold energy I've been harboring inside of my hurts and disappointments.

This serenity is like a blanket of fog- cool and refreshing, engulfing me in an anonymity that blocks all entities that might tether me. Free to be alone in my own wonder. Free from all expectations which are merely limitations of bliss.

Waking in the morning to see nothing beyond the faint silhouettes of my soaring pines, I no longer pine for that which would stifle me. Now I join the morning's magnificence as I breathe in all of this quenching water, the conductor of energy so electric... the connection between me and the bliss, the wonder and the source.

There is nothing left but to be grateful for the love I have been given. Not bitter for what I don't have, but blessing that which will always be with me. I send love and light to that which has made me more beautiful.

As the sun rises in the sky the light between the water's molecules brightens and my energy glistens as the glow intensifies in both my eye, my spirit and my body. But not even the sun can burn through this thickness so quickly. This is the moment where I wait for nothing and its wonder carries me to a world which I have not known- and I am finally home.

I am
the wonder in the light
I am
the song of tapping rain
I am
the joy within a giggle
I am
the ocean's crashing fury
and the moon's mighty sway

I am
the night's bright twinkling
I am
the morning's rising way
I am
the tears which quench the wanting
I am
the air we breathe
and the life in the seed

I am
a tree's bough reaching
I am
a bold heart beating
I am
the magick you are seeking
I am
the cry in the night and
the warmth of the light

I am

Morning stretch

standing somewhere different

than the place you stood before

everything is different

from the ceiling to the floor

eyes wide open, seeing things

that weren't there before

miles or inches closer

to opening the door

breathing through the fire and rain

born anew with a burst of pain

knowing that although you wane the

emptiness yields joy again

trading thoughts you had

for sensations all anew

knowing that the loving matters
most in what you do

reaching out beyond the dream of

what you thought was real

spinning on this ball of life

head now under heel

then ready to die, to live this life

so raw, alive, on the ledge you are

dancing, hurling, freeing your soul

to finally stretch the edge

Peace is that happy blind cloud
kissing snow tops
that has rain in its heart
and sunshine on its back.

Oh, Buddha!