In the tumult of our lives Are pockets of mystery Sparks emanating from Our very souls Intertwined and pulsing
Our lives would not be complete If we did not hold dear The very aspects of What we cannot see or touch Only feel
Dreaming Woman Instead of dams We build bridges arching Across turbulent waters Instead of walls We craft doors With ancient wisdom Instead of weapons We create future generations By words of life Instead of oppression We live We breathe We adapt to life as it comes Recreating it around us Again and again Hoping that one day It will be allowed to stay.
The Abandoned Did you ever wonder Why abandoned houses looked so sad Much like the people Their exterior was only for the function We would not feel so sad If we recognized That the spirit of the house Had already moved on The dream remained
Somehow I always expect that one day The doors will speak out to me And share their past Life as it was centuries ago Perhaps they have and I did not listen
When there is time The time travels To have it as your friend You need to travel with it Stand still Let it flow Feel the currents Resist the pull And then Close your eyes And let go
