During an April morning's walk,
near blooming magnolias and an awaking rhododendron;
in the dry wintered dirt; under an ever-greened branch;
lay a head; stilled and quiet.
A head with finely carved features of an ancient time.
Something that was once intact.
Something that was once admired.
Something that no longer is now what it was then.
Then.
The beauty of then.
The terror of then.
Something has vacated the premises
Something brave and beautiful.
Something without the head that lay
under the ever-greened branch; in the dry wintered dirt;
near blooming magnolias and an awakening rhododendron.
My prayer: May I be so brave and beautiful.
Walk on.
near blooming magnolias and an awaking rhododendron;
in the dry wintered dirt; under an ever-greened branch;
lay a head; stilled and quiet.
A head with finely carved features of an ancient time.
Something that was once intact.
Something that was once admired.
Something that no longer is now what it was then.
Then.
The beauty of then.
The terror of then.
Something has vacated the premises
Something brave and beautiful.
Something without the head that lay
under the ever-greened branch; in the dry wintered dirt;
near blooming magnolias and an awakening rhododendron.
My prayer: May I be so brave and beautiful.
Walk on.
6 comments:
"My prayer: May I be so brave and beautiful."
You are.
Much love, M
needed this.
loved this.
thank-you.
Whenever I doubt the value of blogging, I will return to your site to restore belief.
This was a wonderful little work. There is a flow and energized belieft contained within your writing that I find quite marvelous and bracing.
You must always write.
Thinking of you today my friend....
And sending winged love and peace to you,
Wherever you may be,
Maithri
Bravery and beauty are universal. As everyone everywhere is interconnected, you are part of these qualities and they are part of you. No need to wish for what you already are and already have.
Dear Liara, Thank you for visiting my blog. And thank you for your beautiful comment.
I do agree - yes I do - most days.
It is the holding on to that innate wisdom and peace . . . and it is the journey spent gathering of fruits of that wisdom before the winter arrives that can be both challenging and creatively inspiring.
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