For my buddy Opher. He likes trees. Peace friend. 🙂

All of Creation groans . . .

I had a vision of each soul awakening to their purpose. Speaking their own clear voice into existence. What kind of world would that be?

Light changes

Earth warms

Bud break and blossom

 

She hides a Peony in her heart

Among the folds of its pretty pink petals

Lie her treasures, her secrets, her pain

A fragrant bitter-sweet space few have known

Born in the time of blooming

Where the delicate bright light of summer danced off golden locks

Fine, nimble lines formed Her flesh

Curious, playful, alive like the season was Her soul

Then Summer supplanted by Winter’s cold sleep

Innocence salvaged, secreted, saved

Secured beyond the reach of Man or Mother

She hid a peony in her heart

Competent. clever, accomplished

Stoking the fires of others, mending their broken seams

Someone always needing Her to help, to fix, to figure out

Their assuming and her doing protects the flower of Her heart

Most days frantic functioning under calm sweet smile

But on occasion energy dissipates, walls weaken

A petal will drop from time to time leaving traces

If you would know Her follow the petals to Her heart

For She hides a peony there

And She longs to let it grow