If we could see through to the core of all life, we would know what Love is made of. If we could see through the clouds to the centre of the rainbow, we would then know what colour is made of. But alas, these things are saved and are only for the ancients to know. I am awed by the power of Love in my life... its healing abilities; its soothing qualities, its caring, even when the rest of the world cares not. How is a flower made? It springs from the eternal well of beauty with a vibrance beyond words... its petals reaching up - ever to its Creator. Can we touch it - nay, I think not. Its beauty is delicate and would fade from the soil upon our fingertips.
I think we are ancients. We just lose that connection early in childhood when all the "ways" of this dimension take the real "stuff" out of focus. Thank you for this beautiful rendition of lovely poetry, Deborah. Love and peace to you. Regis
I have written a chapter called I Am That, I Am in this inspirational compilation book by best-selling authors and wonderful people from all walks of life xox :-D (Its sister book is called Adventures In Manifesting - Success and Spirituality)
Share
Print
Save
Follow
Amor
Your poem speaks volumes to my heart!
Cheers
Alain
from the soil upon our fingertips."
Simply beautiful!