A rose blooms in the snow, gently caressed by the sun, who softly strikes the petals with her fingers. Below ground life prepares itself, for new changes in the spring, as the acorns are looking for their owners. I cry like an eagle across the Grand Canyon, searching for water between the deep cliffs, but the light feeds me from the inside. My wings dance in the sky, where my feet make pirouettes on thin ice. Faith is believing in the greatest outcome, like a rose blooming in midwinter!
Shades of crimson red – I stretch out my hand, to be covered in blood. Hues of gold intertwine, with the branches of the vine, where grapes spill juice, that lands like dew on my face. My moist lips taste like honey, surprising me, with the many sensations, my mind has to process. My arms embrace myself, to give warmth to my heart, confused with the aromas, tickling my nostrils. Dizzying is the information, I receive in this short, but powerful moment in time. My eyes are unable to focus, on the essential elements, trying to seek my attention. So, I close my eyes, empty my mind, and shut my ears, to become one with silence, where I hear you speak, in the soft whisper, in the silent breeze. In order to find my way, I must learn to trust, that the right way, will eventually, find me!
The cold touches my bones, until my body knows how to keep herself warm. My naked body breathes the thin air, of the top of the Mount Everest in the summer, making me smile in this intimate moment.
To dance in the rain and lightning, is finding the courage to love yourself whole. Like a flower I bloom in the sunlight, only to grow when the rain showers the swamp, until the flood covers the entire earth of my soul.
The hair on my skin rises and falls, on the soft breeze flowing from your mouth, like soft kisses during our love making. Released is the wild horse from her prison, running across the meadows of her youth.
Love in the purest form never asks, but only embraces what is there in this moment, waiting to be caressed by the soft touch, of the only soul who know how to love me well – In this moment of self-awareness, I learn to love myself!
My smile hides secrets, in the lights in my eyes – a little inside joke. A betrayal to the world, when I know things, that you also know, but I do not say it, yet I lift the veil, in the funny faces, only I can show. It is all a joke, or so you know, when I am serious, happily delirious, unable to understand, the way I am, in the game we play, in a teasing way, where love is a stage. Funny face, yes, look at me, it is my middle name, the one you did not know, or maybe you did, when I thought, I had hidden, it all so well. A little inside joke, a game we play, as the laughter, bursts from the depths, of my happy soul, you know me so well, I am your ultimate, funny face – an one-liner, only we know!
The rain has created pools of water, for me to jump in with my yellow boots. My red umbrella I hold high above my head, as I move my feet through the mud, jumping around as if I am making pirouettes. The thick rain drops slowly land on my face, as a smile curves my lips and erupts into laughter. My heart is a child again if only for a minute, growing younger by every passing second. For that is what silliness does to the soul, it turns around the aging process, cleaning the mind of all negative thoughts, as it begins to feel alive again – a clean slate where all the dirt is washed away. Born again like a butterfly from a cocoon, is the metamorphosis that comes from laughter. The laughter that springs from deep within the earth, like a geyser that erupts his steam in full force. If only we could let go of the adult inside of us, forcing us to behave a different way than we feel, only because this is asked of us in a cripple society. I spread my arms as if I fly like the birds in the sky, as I feel the wind brushing my hair in waves, allowing me to feel free from all that is holding me, all that is imprisoning my emotional state of mind. To be a child again is a gift to the soul, where we learn to let go of the adult inside, to discover that it is not too late to feel alive.
The devaluation of life, breaks even the strongest heart, but when the honeycomb breaks – crushed in the palm of my hand, the soul lives a lifetime longer, and the heart learns to live, in the renewal of the mind.
Crushed stones become a pathway, carrying the feet of an entire nation, where not even the dirt my feet, can stop me from laughing, the tears down my cheeks, until my soul is dancing in the desert.