Petals from a rose one by one
Because you think they are not good enough;
The wrong color,
The wrong shape.
Getting sad and angry because all that is left is a stem
Never minded the roots
And you blame the rose,
Refusing to admit your part.
You were not there for the planting of the seed.
You did not witness the growth of the roots
Yet you stand and criticize in anger and disappointment.
The mind and heart will only continue to see ugly if one thinks and acts ugly.
Her love was never fickle
For she knows the root of
When I Move,
When I dance, sing or speak,
I am all countries
And language recalls the root of one.
I am the beauty of the stillness in every flowing moment,
A galaxy believed to be contained
And constructed in the mind.
Universal ancestral beat
From the beginning to the future existing beyond.
More than mere cosmos conception.
Hear it. Be.
Alternate celestial awakenings.
Harmonious cell vibration.
Close your eyes and become.
And look at what the
From the very beginning has
On and on.
Oh my, oh my.
And you think you cannot make a difference,
That you make no difference?
You are here by no mere accident
You lovely soul.
The beginning of
The core of all you are does recognize this for
You were there.
You are the absolute radiance of creation itself,
You come from
The very root of all life.
The sun is silver,
The moon turned golden.
We all thought we were
We laugh as it crashes all around us
And dance our way through
Shattering and scattering ourselves
The unknown cosmos.
Near and far we create new stars and light
Fiercely formed worlds with love.
Screaming and singing; sink and dissolve once again.
To root, bloom, reseed and
Create is all we know.
The rest is up to the others.
Walking the old river bed,
How often has the course changed?
How often the boulders
Worn to rocks
Worn to pebbles
Worn to dust?
The river carries them on,
How often the roots of mighty trees exposed,
They held on until
Nothing left for them to grasp,
They succumb to the way
And float on?
How often no man stands to witness the
Of the fall?
With the river
To the sea.
Old riverbeds remain and regrow from tiny
Seed to become mighty trees
In time forgetting the river.