I am,
and I am becoming.
Each day, a stronger stirring,
so much that I almost turned to ask you,
“did you feel that”?
This is not the movement of a single seed,
reaching for the light
to yield a bloom.
This is a field of wildflowers,
spreading past an iris’ dream;
vast, velvet-rich, attar of only-me.
Can it be that the myth of the unseen
hides a self-imposed lie about hiding?
Beauty does not cease
without eyes to gaze upon it.
Opening, it sighs
and knows itself.
- Current Location:some place between things
- Current Mood:
contemplative
Comments
without eyes to gaze upon it.
Opening, it sighs
and knows itself.
DAMN RIGHT.
I hope you are enjoying your birthday month beautiful dancer!
Love, Jen
Please keep writing.
I would be delighted to be part of a poetry reading with you as one of participants.
May we all dare to dwell in beauty, balance and delight.
Donald