Your eyes are the window,
To the heavens,
They contain a galaxy of stars…
Beautiful, intuitive soul!
I’ve met you before,
And we’ll meet again soon…
This I know.
Such heavenly days,
And heavenly ways,
Propel my spirit,
To dance with butterflies,
Lock eyes with fireflies,
Be electrified by ocean sprays,
And dazzled by sun rays…
Your love has lifted me higher,
To wonder and awe…
I’m Spirit’s daughter now,
Because I gazed into knowing eyes,
Kind eyes, your eyes.
-by gilda patricia
There’s a fine art to
Being polite and authentic,
At the same time…
Drawing outside the lines,
Without stepping on anyone’s toes…
Doing “as is expected…”
Stopping at preset lights,
Moving only when someone else says go…
Could very well stunt personal freedom,
And the chance to live and grow.
Would it put a shade over life’s
Intuitive inner glow?
Freely being ourselves could
Stir up dust,
Into otherwise stagnant spaces…
Mixing things up,
Firing off synapses,
Causing seeds to become wildflowers.
Do you prefer plastic roses,
Or the real thing.
Fire’s passion could burn us to our core,
We could drown in a sea of emotions,
Be crushed by the weight of stagnant rock’s debris,
Be swept away by winds of change, or flights of fancy.
How do we know when, where
And what is safe to explore?
God as loving guide leads us,
With our intuitive, internal, (conscience) compass.
Ship’s finest Captain, unmatched Fire Tamer,
Expert Aviator and Earth’s greatest Pioneer,
Steers us clear with skill and care.
G-reatest P-ath for S-oul assured…
With God’s “GPS” turned on.