Cocoon

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Studio P. Delbo – Le papillon de tulle, Paris 1930, posted on Ravenous Butterflies, Facebook

 

I wonder if there is pain
for the butterfly as her wings
unfurl from her cocoon

Time spent preparing to be,
harbored within forming
her patterns, does she discover
her ability to fly
through the pain of letting go

Her place no longer on the planet,
feet tenderly alight
in temporary rest
held in promises,
she tears through the
wrapping that binds her
leaving behind an
empty carcass

Her wings stretch wide
under Divine’s precious gaze,
colors deepen in Light
rich in her own voice

In her new-born flight
she finds strength,
discovers
her beauty

In the gift entrusted
she soars in praise
of her spring awakening

Peace This Night

Let Peace fall upon you
and wash you in her gentleness.

Let Peace rest upon you
stilling your beautiful mind.

Let Peace hold you
in her warmth and tenderness.

Let Peace sing to you her lullaby
blessing you with night’s rest.

Breathe deeply in
the arms of Peace, my friend.

Release your worries to her.
For she is strong and will protect
her loving child
granting you good strength.

Deep Peace, my friend,
this night, to you.

God’s peace to you,
my friend.

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Author’s Note:

I wrote this several days ago for a friend. I now feel the need for wider healing and wish to share it with you all.

 

I Am Home

I am home, not within brick and mortar
entitled doors to shut out, jail in
glazed windows to safely look through, keep a distance

I am home without where no boundaries rise
in his eyes, in her laughter, in my sighs,
in a touch so gentle I gasp

I am home in sweet bird chant before the sun rise
in loam where 
roots spiral in lusty richness
in rain drops reflecting your perfection

I am home, not in doctrine
of who you are and what I must do

I am home not because I define myself one way or another

I am home deep within where your flame alights Eternal

I am home because you know me and delight in me
you hold me precious as I am

You bring me home to you
beautiful without worry

I am yours

I am home

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Author’s Note:

Thank you for bringing me home.

Precious Intrusion

Do you hear it
tapping on the night window
ever so discreetly
drawing us into its
rhythm, its rhyme

First rain, spring’s
entrance
I still myself, hold my breath
afraid to frighten away
its precious intrusion

Come to me
without discretion
and we will waltz
my hand in yours
hips pressed against
one another
enveloped in
spring’s holy baptism

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Author’s Note:

The first rain of spring came tonight. I love the rain.

The Strand

I am in the edges I don’t see in front of me
I find myself in the strand
that moment of softness
between there and here
where muscles loosen ever so slightly
breath deepens
I sigh
here I am

I am in grey cloud swirl of winter
releasing into spring rain
tempered in filtered light of morning sun

In the aria of piano and cello
I am enfolded in gentle arms
cherished as lover
swooning in melody

With graceful lines and delicate hues
elegance flows in rose-petaled satins
aerial laces
beauty designed from within

In your caress across my cheek
a whispered mistral
I know your voice
your beloved disclosure
I am your creation

No longer am I afraid to ask myself
Who am I
I am not the mirror looking back at me
I am in the bend
the contoured margin of myself
here I rest in grace