She went there to contemplate
and heal her aching longing
to the grove of inspiration
where nimble squirrels played
A world of responsibility and ignorance
Pressed upon sagging shoulders
As she entered the dappled space
sitting amongst the flowers and butterflies
like some Grade B children’s movie
With stern determination
To be light and playful
With her sword of honest reflection
The dichotomy of intentions
Balloons weighted
Until a cutting of the strings
With focus and whispers
From the Eternity of the moment
The shadow of you
fixing your lunch
and all the morning ritual
As it was reflected
on the sun dappled window
shifting with the breezes
as they tickle the leaves
That shadow looked just like squirrel
wiggling his spunky tail
and standing on tippy toe
on the top board of the fence
Until I noticed the striped shirt…
Ever mindful of promises made
the way was strewn with items kept
like offal on the tides of emotion
The counters stack them
categorized and labeled
as if they have value
in the scheme of things
As if traces were real threads
in the tapestry of our lives
meaning and purpose are assigned
——————————
Look! There – see that bird?
Flying, wings unfettered…
The sun reflected off a window
peeked in a different direction
this morning…
Soul-searching question
arose like a fist
“Did the world switch
directions as I slept?”
The reflection of Love is fear
We can simply recognize Source in all
sometimes it looks like me
there in the glass
sometimes it looks like opposite
a clash
A mirror for you
looks like your past
there in the glass
looks like someone else there
All that glitters
cannot mirror for us
like loved ones can
All that shines
is not necessarily clean
Mirror of mine
what better way to see my progress
I see you as you see me
and back a step we see we
Love looks at love
Love is all love sees
