Quiet, gray clouds lurk
between Sun and Earth,
shed their ice crystal feathers,
tenderly release
blankets of love,
embrace Nature’s pure essence.
Naked trees
no longer donning their leaves
reach out to inviting
wispy flakes to rest
as if a painter’s brush
touched the branches with glitter.
Heaven’s gates open.
Namaste,
L and Muse
greets those who enter
warding away negative
ones, inviting joy.
Namaste,
L and Muse
She reaches, out from
her heart inviting others
dance, leap, celebrate.
Namaste,
L and Muse
Magic limbs sizzle
beacons in darkness invite
the lost, the lonely.
Namaste,
L and Muse
There upon the window sill grows a plant named Spike. She doesn’t invite the gentle observer to touch her. So most keep their distance. A few, perhaps one or two, will dare to see the smooth curves, despite the spikes. These rare observers will defy the odds and reach out to stroke the gentle spots, aware that Spike might strike at any moment in self-defense–the hurts have been many in her lifetime, and so she developed her own defense. It truly takes a special person to see the gentle essence beyond the spikes and recognize that Spike too is connected to a Divine source as well as the observer. Spike strikes the hand that reaches out, not once or twice, but many times. She remains protected, but each time the hand reaches out, THE IDEAS begin to creep in… What would it be like if she could trust and not have to keep the others away? Is this what loneliness feels like? How can fear be released to allow another close? How much longer can she zap the hand away?
Namaste,
L and Muse
Warm light invites
visitors to the welcome mat
the threshold
between the outside world
and inner, sacred space
a choice to knock upon the door
a choice to answer and open the door
a bit of risk, much to be gained
Namaste,
L and Muse
I am a river
emotions flowing
cradled by the banks
embracing me
supporting me
inviting me to simply let go
my heart opens even wider…
My waters teeming with life
fish swimming in my life-force current…
tadpoles darting in my peaceful pool
flirting with the edges of my current
stretching with growing pains
as they transform into their mature frogselves…
green leaf-pads support lilies
opening to the dancing sun rays from above…
water snakes slithering out from my placid pool
slinking into my fast-flowing currents
relaxing into my stream of consciousness…
My banks beckon visitors,
“Come play along my edges; I will frolic with you.
Come wash in my waters; I will cleanse you.
Come drink my liquids; I will replenish you.
Come join me; I will support you.
Come, my friends.
I have abundance to share with you.
Come, my friends.
I await you.
Come, my friends.”
The blue heron who has quenched his thirst
with my waters for many seasons
stand one last time on my rockbed
aware of the time– for moving on
his wings flap, flap, flap,
he takes flight soaring higher and higher
circling overhead for only a moment…
he must answer the call
to follow his instincts to another river
another space
another life…
I offer peace in the midst of storms
I whisper in the darkness
I sparkle in the brilliant sun rays
I am a river.
Namaste,
L and Muse
Bleeding hearts
a name that sounds
so sad
as if the tiny pink hearts
bleed out their joy
shriveling into wrinkles
of unhealthy hearts
shrinking;
yet,
when a heart is filled
with love
the love seems to multiply
on its own
until the tiny heart
expands, beyond itself,
overflowing with joy
a tiny tendril
reaches out
inviting others
to share in the joy
in the love;
the heart flourishes
blossoming into a fountain
of love
which begets love.
Namaste,
L and Muse
Candlelight Chats 