Compassion sees through the portals of hearts
Without ever even looking
To know what waits beyond the fence post hole
Is the depth of love
To accept whatever is there is grace
To exist when the fence rots is trust
The compass of truth points the way
Can one truly live without love, grace, and trust?
Stems that hold life
Fragile as flower petals
Dip and twist, rising forth
To greet the rising sun
This life we hold in outstretched hands
Is what we make of it
Do we live it in shades of gray
Or in breathing colors of nature?
Branch out and touch the world
Rise forth, wise one
Cusp this life in your hand
Step inside and live it out loud
Counting sands in the glass
Or listening for the chime
As elusive as grace
We can’t catch time
From morning dew to veil of dusk
We mark it and spend it and even try to bend it
We attempt to mimic it in gadgets to sell
This gift for which we are under its spell
Food for birds and bees
Mother Nature cares for all
Sugar of the Gods
Swirling fan of seeds
Purple petals majesty
Beauty to the eye
Into the treetops
he flies for a bird’s eye view
below water’s edge.
Scouting water’s depth,
he will surely take the plunge
if fish swim in sight.
Lunch time: Watch out fish!
The hunter is on the prowl.
Nothing escapes him.
I can see through
Your heart to your soul
The bones of you matter
As I breathe in your life force
And expand upon your essence
Our lives, a chemistry of our love
I will wear my heart on my sleeve for you
****This is my meager attempt at an Etheree poem.
All is calm in the cool well of the valley
Flames flicker over the hills,
Blazing into the sky
Yet there is no safety…
She pulls her cloak over her shoulders
as she strolls through the night
She clutches the diamond choker from her throat
and tosses it upon the pearled carpet
inviting weary travelers to her celestial mansion
Fleeting and fragile as a snowflake,
Petunia wears a tutu of innocence
She smiles a golden ray of sunshine
as she dances from the inside out.
She holds you in her childish spell
until the scalloped edge of youth wears out.
When her sun no longer shines,
she simply folds her skirts and bows her head.
She enters the world as a bud of mistrust.
Love squeezes his way into the tiny clenched fist.
She opens, one finger at a time,
offering the palm of her hand to the world.
Beauty blooms where love lives.