Can I be a flower of Light?
Conceived and born in form of white
Moving in the move of all
No fight.. no tear.. no quest.. no fall.
To glide, to flow, to shine as son
To live as me who lives as One.
The daughter born in winged flight
Who swirls and spins as purest sight
There is this clear true eye that sees
This One of me, this ‘can’, this ease.
A seeded child in white of earth
Whose life is love, is flesh, is birth,
Is play, is run, is know, is see,
The white of Source .. this flesh can be:
The earthen babe whose skin is pink
As fuschia picked in deepest think
Whose tender tears, the water’s flow
Whose standing is the mountain’s show
Whose flight is every birds display
Of freedom in the fresh of day
The blue in sky the white of cloud
Is every quiet, every loud
Every motion ever shown
Is trust, is guide, is felt ...is known.
(Artwork by Joan Harold)