tender flowing,
over me-
I see the tide rise,
within me-...
touching the growth,
of my coming.
my self,
my she-
comes to ready,
my ground breaks,
open,
exposed-
to be,
my birthing-
the natural essence of me.
I can not be pushed,
like a river against-
my movement,
I can not be rushed,
roots pulled-
before my time.
my flow dances,
to the rhythm-
of my soul,
calling to the motion-
the nature of my,
spirit’s longing-
for my living,
to the one-
I am now coming,
to be.
Heart's Calling
By Maureen Kwiat Meshenberg
Painting by: Pink Dreamer ~
