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| Topic: focus | |
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Focus
It's funny how you can look right at something and not focus on it. I am sitting in front of my window Across the street are houses, cars lining the sidewalk. Flowers and shrubery, a cascade of blooming lace, clear and bright splashes of color. A young mother is planting her special gift of flowers, tender blessings. A slow tear is forming into a pool that wells up from this mother's heart. Memory's love is gathered in a basket, Held and woven with distance and the inaudible of a dreamscape wonder And hope's desire to even just hear their breathing, today, everyday. In front of me, and in my hands, coffee, toast, a window with the world to see, Yet, I can only see my empty heart, empty arms and I wonder. Raine Les 5/11/2008 |
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Focus It's funny how you can look right at something and not focus on it. I am sitting in front of my window Across the street are houses, cars lining the sidewalk. Flowers and shrubery, a cascade of blooming lace, clear and bright splashes of color. A young mother is planting her special gift of flowers, tender blessings. A slow tear is forming into a pool that wells up from this mother's heart. Memory's love is gathered in a basket, Held and woven with distance and the inaudible of a dreamscape wonder And hope's desire to even just hear their breathing, today, everyday. In front of me, and in my hands, coffee, toast, a window with the world to see, Yet, I can only see my empty heart, empty arms and I wonder. Raine Les 5/11/2008 I sit with you and I see Beauty,, A Soul so deep A Spirit longing to explore,, Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh come Sit,, the View from my Eyes is quite Lovely  
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Focus It's funny how you can look right at something and not focus on it. I am sitting in front of my window Across the street are houses, cars lining the sidewalk. Flowers and shrubery, a cascade of blooming lace, clear and bright splashes of color. A young mother is planting her special gift of flowers, tender blessings. A slow tear is forming into a pool that wells up from this mother's heart. Memory's love is gathered in a basket, Held and woven with distance and the inaudible of a dreamscape wonder And hope's desire to even just hear their breathing, today, everyday. In front of me, and in my hands, coffee, toast, a window with the world to see, Yet, I can only see my empty heart, empty arms and I wonder. Raine Les 5/11/2008 I sit with you and I see Beauty,, A Soul so deep A Spirit longing to explore,, Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh come Sit,, the View from my Eyes is quite Lovely hikerchick wrote of perceptions i sat here and read recollections Sadie has toast and tea, Mom is a crasher that enters with laughter and lights the direction for all to see for arms that are empty say COME TO ME NOW!!!  the invitation to refill your heart i receive with a bow, the children you long for is the child within you listen to her i think she wants to go play on the merry-go-round  |
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