My little sailboat flounders In a sea of whispers Has it forgotten its course Amidst so many voices Saying go north, or south, or east, or west? My little sailboat spins In the currents.
Is there hope for my sailboat Ensorcelled as it is By sweet-voiced sirens Harboring evil schemes?
Alas! Not the pull of the moon Nor the push of the winds Could set my sailboat free. But, if it could be still And remember The cause for its voyage May she cut its way through the chaos And find its moorings at last.
in its cocoon, so are we
in our bodies
biding the moment
to be a butterfly, free
among the flowers
tender voice of high summer
flying into fall
an empty cocoon
you flew like a butterfly
never to return
Summers are made of these -
butterflies frolicking in the sun
zucchini growing on the ground
barefoot children playing in the yard
swooping on brambles like hungry birds
grabbing berries with eager hands
popsicles dripping on sweaty chin
children dancing under the summer rain
My treasures are a visual prayer
my eyes delight to see:
a garden full of flowers
a pocketful of butterflies, flying free;
broken seashells smelling of the shore
flowered teapots from days of yore
cards and notes bearing good wishes
faded photos of familiar faces
Then, there’s the warmth of sunshine
and the freshness of falling rain
God’s promise in a rainbow
and laughter’s sweet refrain
My soul exalts when remembering
these common miracles, to say the least.
Of gratitude my prayers sing
its cadence clearing through the mist.
Walk with me beneath the moonlight –
We’ll enjoy some moments on our own
while the children’s dreams are taking flight –
Walk with me beneath the moonlight.
We’ll remember when we were alone
dreaming of love. In the dark of night
walk with me. Beneath the moonlight,
we’ll enjoy some moments on our own.