The Observer


I do not want to
hear the summer rains.
I want to be
those tinkling drops
that wash the faces
of flowers and bees.

Let the lion’s roar
come from my chest
not an echo in my ear.

I am the leaf
that floats to the ground,
purr of a cat
lying by the hearth
on a cold winter’s night.

I do not want to
just observe life,
I want to be life!

4 comments

    • How often we settle for so much less than we can have, if only we had the courage to claim what is our natural state. Thanks for being such a faithful reader and always adding your beautiful thoughts. hugs, pat

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