for the love of all things poetry 💞
I fit words together,
hoping they mean something.
Wanting them to make sense.
To myself.
To others.
Allowing them my raw emotion.
Willing to give them up freely.
Creating a monument,
for this one moment in time,
to share with the world.
These words become something tangible.
A thing,
a gift,
a piece of art.
A part of me,
stays with them.
Little pieces of me live,
like shapes in a puzzle,
becoming
a picture,
a flower,
a song.
Small particles of my soul,
like tiny rose buds,
opening in my hand,
mesmerizes with it’s
beauty,
touch,
fragrance.
I write words on a page,
and feel love
spreading outward,
as the flowering happens,
as this thought blooms.
As words become thoughts about…
As the pieces become beautiful…
As the poem is born,
of water,
blood,
star dust
and becomes…
a small piece of my soul,
left behind on pages,
for others to find,
sharing a small moment,
never to be lost,
because it has been
recorded,
acknowledged,
emptied.
Gratitude makes room for new
miracles,
learning,
beauty,
as they find their new home
ready,
emptied,
expectant.
Waiting for more
truth,
goodness,
love,
to flow and enter in.
There is always more,
and more than enough.
The heart that gives gathers,
but never tries to hold anything hostage.
Love,
giving,
pretty much everything,
about life,
only works when we allow it,
all of it –
every sacred cow,
every color on the wheel,
every tiny wildflower we see,
every spec of mud,
to be free.
❣
AL
Photos found at http://www.pinterest.com
life: acoustic & amplified 