the path...

the path winding
through bushes,
broom, fern and
wild roses

at times so narrow,
there are places to stop,
they are everywhere
to see near or to see far

near the flowers, the stones,
insects and thorns,
far the sea, the clouds
and the sky flowing in light

and then there is wind
taking us and the birds
into our night,
the path a dream

which has grown
and takes us with
wings of fluffy feathers
through tears and joy

always there is a path,
it is inside,
and it is not for us
to know where we go

it is beyond words
and noise and hurt,
in this silence we must
step softly but firm.

the heart of matter
is the heart,
and each ray of light
has its own path

together we are
called light,
but this is
incomprehensible

in many ways
as we are all blind,
though we know
we belong together

and our blood flows
and flows and flows
as long as the heart beats
and as long as we breathe

giving birth and death,
conscious of this
we must see
it is spirit flowing

moving through all
and all of us
who are sacrifice
and manifestation

and at times
we cannot know
is it us who go
or are we flying

still with the momentum
given to us from dead stars
and with the force
from possible past life.

please, let me stay
and stay on my path,
my soul will reach out
and give you my hand.

i pray for all of us,
let us be aware
of  all in the roses
and in the thorns

inside and outside,
let us see the mornings,
the wonder
of being awake