chanda|rule
Even the smallest drop of dew sings of the goodness of God’s glory. Her song of thanksgiving wide and free With morning’s release of sun reflected on her face the possibility of petal’s kiss and a promise of rebirth with moon’s glow She sounds her stanza into endless fields of lifetimes before bidding farewell to the night that formed her and the day that will carry her remembrance.
the ending the dig the deep giving way to earth’s bounty it is the tear that carries heavy memory and the heart that holds only truth It’s the secret pause after your exhale that bring us back to the beginning
this broken clay a fragmented memoir of better days still holds a beauty between it’s crack and shines hope from the hollow that the potter’s hands will brush away the dirt and soil and make new it’s fractured body and make whole it’s fractured soul
Let me sit beside you at the river let me hold your longing by the stream let me keep you safe in my quiet til once again you can believe. Let me hold your moan at the runnel let me cup your tears by the sea - Won’t you carry my promise when you’re ready my heart can make wide your joy
There’s a fury at the watershed where river meets stream where headwaters troubled do weaken the course with disharmony beguiling parted paths contending there’s a fury awaiting a tear of release. a drop for the journey sprung fresh from the source to cleanse fog’s drip and yoke branches strayed. that calms whetted lands and remembers the seep and carries the prayer to seed in fertile loam.
For the breath painting my insides with life and the hallowed spark that strikes aflame my imaginings For the wonder of chance and the certainty of change. For the acceptance of unbridled love and the suffering cold that seeps into its cracks For the pull of first steps and the scrape of the fall for the beauty of togetherness and solitude’s song and ladders climbed and dares tested for curls of joy unfurling and the belly slips of loss foreseen Thank you. Thank you.