Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Your Beauty is so God

Great Friend, we haven’t talked in so long and I can feel it in my core.

I’m a piece of rotting fruit without you, a decaying corpse without you,

A compost pile that isn’t composting into anything except brittle little bones.

But when we talk, when we swap stories and share laughs, but mostly

When I sit enamored by your beauty and breathe deep your bare-earth smells,

And when you allow me to nestle into you and just linger there, warmly,

I become new again. Free and New. Loveable – to myself and to others.

When I sit still and buckle my butt to the seat, I find that I’m flying –

Not just drifting – but quite in control of my direction.

When you speak to me I am somehow able to hear more completely

the words of others, my own included, with clarity and compassion.

When I see you dancing in the shadows of maple leaves, resting your

Magnificent self on the cloud-lined shelves between the sky and sea,

Or lifting off the earth on the wings of a dozen Canadian geese,

I am stilled. I am renewed by a sense of wholeness, of oneness with you,

Of how very precious these moments are.

No comments:

Post a Comment