The path becomes a meadow beneath your feet,
I know this way is taking me home.
I follow you
for gentleness follows you.
You are a glimpse of sunlight,
beneath the fig leaves.
With you, the noise of engines cease and life is simple.
Silence and love are the only work.
We sit upon a rock, gaze skyward
and learn from birds,
and fish and the slow assurance
of trees.
What we see becomes;
Look only on goodness.
Plant a garden in the concrete
Mess up the neat lawn verges with wild flower seeds.
Be yeast
Let your love be the yeast that rises the heaviness of this dough,
Making it light,
Making it nourishing.
Making it real.
I know this way is taking me home.
I follow you
for gentleness follows you.
You are a glimpse of sunlight,
beneath the fig leaves.
With you, the noise of engines cease and life is simple.
Silence and love are the only work.
We sit upon a rock, gaze skyward
and learn from birds,
and fish and the slow assurance
of trees.
What we see becomes;
Look only on goodness.
Plant a garden in the concrete
Mess up the neat lawn verges with wild flower seeds.
Be yeast
Let your love be the yeast that rises the heaviness of this dough,
Making it light,
Making it nourishing.
Making it real.
Such stilling words, bringing life to the soul!
ReplyDeleteAwesome.
ReplyDeletebeautiful. thank you. happy mother's day dear
ReplyDelete