You’re the clover, you’re the daisy wet with morning dew.
Soaked with Gods’ sweet life force that’s sweet and new and true.
You’re the soulful yawn of bird song with their hymn you must be strong….
that speak of days to follow and a place where we belong..
You’re the yellow of the buttercup, the fields of cornflowers blue
the red of banks of poppies and the rose of buds to bloom.
You’re the softness of the summer breeze
the wind that rustles through the trees
That murmur peace be with you
to stand tall and hear the call.
You’re the secret scent of oceans, the depth within its waves
that roll and crash and open on days yet to be played.
You’re the presence of the butterfly that rests upon my wrist.
You’re the look of eyes so bright and green,
a welcome fateful twist.
You’re the sweetest face of meditation, the long awaited look,
heart wide open breath abated,
you’re the hand that closed the book..
you’re the voice that whispered happiness, that brought me close to see,
the smile upon our innocence
the path to set us free.
You’re the hand that reached out and touched me
you told who i really am,
You’re all there is and what i have to do
so simple in its plan.
You’re dance with friends, who gaily beat the drum
the rhythm of the earth and days still yet to come
You’re the honey of the bees and the golden thread of truth
the knowledge of the circle and its healing waves to soothe.
By Gail Cooney