The only job I truly have
is to keep
coming home.
In the center
of my being, is a tiny thread of gold,
an eternal cord
into the heart of spring.
as simple as
the snowflake,
a tear, then mist.
we are each
a drop of water
falling into
this sacred sanctuary of life
onto the child’s tongue,
through a sister’s eye,
feeding the forest roots at dawn.
The trunk
the leaves
reach like veins of a lung
towards the core of the sun.
as melting snow transforms
a crystal into waking breath,
from mist
on the face
of a lake
into sacred sky.
As your entire life
comes home.
as your entire life
aligns
with Love.