Wildflower

There’s a fine art to 

Being polite and authentic, 

At the same time…

Drawing outside the lines,

Without stepping on anyone’s toes?

But only doing “as is expected…”

Stopping at predetermined red lights,

And moving when they say go,

Stunts our personal freedom,

To live and grow,

Putting a shade over life’s

Intuitive inner glow…

Freely being ourselves would surely

Throw some messy incongruity

Into otherwise stagnant spaces…

Mixing things up,

Firing off synapses,

Causing seeds to become wildflowers.

Stirring up all kinds of trouble…

For those who prefer plastic roses,

To the real thing.

 

Gilda Patricia

 

 

 

God’s Time

All we wish for will come to us…

In God’s way and

In God’s time.

Trust our heavenly Father

Knows Best…

When there seems no reason or rhyme,

Remember the seasons of life ebb and flow.

When you’re tired of towing the line,

Take a breather and a rest,

Let your intuition be your guide.

Have a question or a wish?

Get a feeling, follow a sign,

Be leery of quick fixes and rout replies,

Honor life’s multi-layers and multi-facets.

To avoid being misled, 

Trust your own “inner knowing”…

Remember, the heart will lead you to the place

Where miracles, grace and mercy abound.

 

-Gilda Patricia

 

 

 

“Rebirth”-Day

God’s spiritual world is holding its breath,

Awaiting my “rebirth”-day!

You see I’ve been spiritually minded,

For some time now,

But truth be told…I’ve still been

Wishing beyond wish and hoping,

Beyond hope that things would one day,

Somehow, someway…magically go

My Way.

But my very happiness depends now on

Me relinquishing these immature childhood,

Wishes and dreams.

Spiritual happiness means taking it all in…

Accepting all things as a gift, 

Minus the labels, minus the judgments,

Minus my expectations…

Of how things should be, about what

I deserve…

When every inch of the Universe Is always

Loving me, before, during, and forever after,

My “rebirth”-day.

 

-Gilda Patricia

 

Highest Love Waits

Sometimes things need to simmer,

And brew…

If we stir the pot too early,

The flavors will never intermingle,

To create something rich, complex and new.

We are taught to get on with things,

Moving further and flying higher,

Needing to seek the stars, 

And touch the moon,

Before broken wings heal.

We say, there’s no time for gleaning meaning,

Or for feelings reconsidered…

But can time truly fly by?

Or is time an illusionary condition,

Superseded by Higher love’s

Absolute vision?

This love akin to an invisible

Siamese twin, that belongs to us,

And waits on us alone,

Contentedly inseparable from our side,

Even if eternity itself got up,

And sped right by.

 

-Gilda Patricia

 

 

 

The Modest Ones

God bless the desperate modest ones,

Who take so little and 

Feel so much…

Whose hearts are wider than

The sky, a sweet song 

On their lips to sing,

Yet, perhaps an octave too high,

For others to join in?

Alone, for now…

But still connected, 

To the universal heartbeat, 

Of oneness, love and light.

One day the whole world will

Know their song, when the sun

Peeks out from behind dark clouds,

They will sing their final sad verse.

…Until then, silent daisies in the field,

Perk up and slightly bend,

Toward the modest ones.

(In honor of those who shine their light down on others without exception and without expectation.)

-Gilda Patricia

The Effects of Angel Dust

Perhaps treading too lightly

To shake up world history books,

But just a flicker of your glistening light,

And your whisper soft words,

Keep spirits afloat.

Protecting broken hearts from

Crumbling or numbing,

Advocate for the invisible,

Oft’ neglected soul,

You reclaim their royal significance.

This humble witness proclaims,

“You’ve made your mark!”

…For a healing dose of your angel dust,

Remains sprinkled upon,

My ever grateful heart.

 

(Dedicated to my mom on Mother’s Day, and all the other beautiful soul warriors out there…You know who you are!!!)

 

-Gilda Patricia

 

 

Your Beautiful Presence

Content to stretch out my weary soul,

In the delightful windowsill of your presence.

Your accepting gaze, 

Like transparent glass,

Reveals my unstained Being-ness.

Opening and pushing back,

Pane after pane,

Circulating fresh air,

Reviving and awakening my spirit,

Transporting once dormant dreams,

Beyond virgin territory…

Leading me into this creative and new,

Self-expressive-dance-space.

Me and my “labor of love,” thanks you,

For your beautiful Presence.

 

May is my 1 yr. Anniversary on WordPress!  So I dedicate this poem to you,

all the soul-enriching readers and writers in this wonderful WordPress family,

always looking forward to meeting and reading more!

-Gilda Patricia