I claim the right to be complete
to intrude upon the darkness
as a star that sails the infinite
A vivid lotus of enchantment
Skipping in the burst of flower blessed wind
caressing the night skies timeless
holding the fiery sun to my breast
I kiss away the sadness...
I am of the shamans circle
like birds that see at night
I stand naked in the moons gold glory
bathed in wonder and delight
Meditation I am, in the tree of life
so rooted I shall not fall
I am here to listen to you
In the thousand winds that call
And I am strength within the mountains
my waterfalls releasing pain
I am all, I am one
I am you, we are the same
I am the star that is a seed
connecting earth and sky
I am the diamond in a snowflake
and the summer as it sighs
For I am the love that is within you
and you will never be alone
for I am of the shamans circle
I AM love
that has found home...
Whispering wings of fragility shattered,
moonlit heartbeats rendered stone.
The equinox of belief, tranquillity breezes,
dreamtine illusions spinning on home.
A shell of silence, flowers decending,
immeresed in tears sacred and calm
Music exquisite in the rainbow wanders
resonates the first song love composed
Throught the mist the unicorn inplores me
nuzzling my awareness awakened once more
To dive soul first through the rites of passage
rejoicing, this woman stands open and whole,
soaring freely in the grace of oneness,
holding eternity unadorned.
She sees her bliss imprinted, extensile,
A holy form rekindeling joy,
And who is she but a Goddess?
A Goddess of the night reborn...
They came to me one night
In the dreamtime arena
The Masters of the Mysteries
and in reverance touched
my ready soul
And awakened the vision
of myself to be
the cosmic design
I like zebras
Wrapped in cellophane
And jazz symphonies
Played in the rain.
I like people
Who think out of key
Crisp burnt cookies
And honey in my tea.
I like babies
That seldom do frown
That don’t tie me down.
These capture a variety of moods just in mere words.
Beauty, obviously, comes in a variety of packages. Finally...
Three in the morning and time for us hitchhikers to grab a towel and go to bed.
Copyright 2006 Susan Arp Starwing