Superstitions
(c) Singleton 2007
She knelt...
The girl with the
silver spoon,
bent and
rusted
scraped
on the sidewalk
from scavenging
food for the soul,
and
placed her hands,
palms down
on the cool
wet earth
to feel it's heartbeat.
And she heard
the trains,
one thousand faces in
the windows
going nowhere,
and the bottom of the ocean,
ten million miles
of
fairytale life
floating,
and
the sound of
color,
never heard by anyone before...
She was the gift.....
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16 comments:
You are the gift my dear friend.
The gift of undeserved grace, of sacred humility, and tender, authentic love.
Your voice, your heart...
Enchant me,
With Love, M
Maithri....
Today I dance
a quiet dance
the only music
distant sirens
blue and red
a whipporwhill in the wind,
the steady breathing
of man's best friend
my best friend
a blanket at my feet,
and I
listen
for the words
the signs
the chorus
to this everyday
song
Your words are windchimes.......
windows going to nowhere always sound promising to me.
lovely words and great drawings dear
deli...
yes,
there's something about windows...
Thank you sweet girl, and Happy Birthday to your Baby Joy!
Beautiful as always...what more can I say?
Coming here for my daily meditation....It's like coming to a little painted house by an ocean far away from strife.
Anytime, sweet girl, anytime....
Thank you for words...
a colorful windsock
just outside the door
of the painted house.....
Perfect! I'm watchin' it in the salty breeze now....
I see it now!
I agree with no,
I come here and to your other sites, for meditation.
You are the voice of the spirit,
Love, Maithri
No....I knew you would!
Maithri...and No....
I come here to meditate, too,
sitting indian style in puddles of crayons
to travel, to wander, to search for peace....
this is my paper trail through the forest...proof that I have tried....
I colored in circles today, circles and circles...
until I saw the butterfly
THE ONE
And I almost stumbled,
tripped,
fell onto her stage,
holding my breath
for fear
she'd hear me
see me
fly away.....
but she danced....
and that's what she came for
The zebra
with wings.....
And
I knew then
the circle would be unbroken...
the changling told me so....
I could build a religion around your words...
The old and new
testaments
of emeral mermaids
dreaming of azure skies
A gospel of gypsy
butterflies
searching for loves tambourine
Every Friday
would be the sabbath day
for dancin!
And peace~love
dreams would ride
the winds
like kaleidoscope kites
like whispered love songs
I have faith
in
a
Singleton
ideal
Freedom
It is the only broken road
worth
walking.
Love, M
They all know what I've come to know for quite a while now.
It's the inspiration the comes from your person, your words, your ideas.
Your one of the friends I keep in touch with every day. And we do that best through writing poems.
How beautiful is that?
Maithri....
"Freedom
It is the only broken road
worth
walking"
you must know how incredibly profound I believe those words to be....
how
BIG
they are.....
And in this house of colors,
I hope you don't mind,
I'm asking actually,
if on
borrowed winds,
those words
are painted here
on the face of
a friend,
a stranger,
a butterfly......
One line....
And I could color all night....
Eric....
it was like that,
From the get go,
the first
turn the page,
you read,
I read,
and
the colors
blue
and
green
became the
golden thread,
henna twine,
the telephone wire....
"Can you hear me now?"
Dear friend,
You never have to ask ;) I would be honoured to have added even the smallest drop of inspiration to that creative ocean which dwells inside you.
Love and blessing, M
Thank you so much....that sentence stayed with me all morning, a presence rising, gaining strength..... And when Skinny called for our Sunday morning cahoots.....I recited it to her, and she, like I, embraced the words.....
Yes, that is inspiration, my friend, on wings.....
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thanks!
p.s: PLEASE THIS IS URGETN!
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