Imagination

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Where will my imagination take me?

It will never be as vast as the sky,

As voluminous as the fruit of one tree.

It will never set me soaring

In the way of the clouds

That are ever shifting,

Always finding new formations

Without any need to express at all.

Can my imagination expand

The way a bud unfurls to flower,

Holding nothing back

Despite the transient nature

Of her existence

Between coming and going?

Can it rest as sweetly

As a bird landing on a branch,

Knowing it won’t stay long,

Not finding any sadness in this?

Imagination is a winged bird

When the path is not obstructed,

When nothing stops the intuition

From honing in on home.

Imagination does not desire,

And so it is limitless.

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What We Are

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and maybe I can
swirl between the lights
like snowflakes that dance
their small dances with the
winter wind on their way
down or out to their
vanishing point
 
and maybe I have
feeling like a bird
would, living out its destiny
among the clouds, wanting
for it to come down
to rest, in soft defiance
of the order of things
 
and maybe it is
you I follow down every
and all roads, not seeing
the burdens I have
rested upon you, who
knows what love is
and what love is not
 
and maybe, finally,
i will love the snowflake
for its imminent disappearance,
the bird for its freedoms,
and you, always, for
bringing me to the reckoning
of what I am
 
– TS

Valiant Protector of Love

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to seek, to have, to know,
our place of protection
 
from our common source
in the cosmic womb,
 
flung here and there,
feeling apart, bereft,
 
our nurturing at time
stripped from us,
 
the stories that break
it all apart,
 
our worldly aim, then,
to remove words, like
 
find
reclaim
harness
 
to be again what
we wish for all,
 
past our stories,
safe within the
arms of love. – TS

Shadow, a Reminder

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Are there words for
feelings that pierce though
space
And land in a place
that is maybe not
quite ready?
The shadow left behind
Recreates shape
Filling itself
Then disappearing with
The sun, our last
Reminder.
Still …
Birds and insects reach out
And the sound ushers the day
Which is soft
With overhanging leaves
Throwing half light
To the ground
Time spent
Gazing.
The water answers our
Call from below
By catching the sun
Moving ever on. – TS