moving toward myself
embrace the face before me
pink-toned skin of newborn babe
diamond floating in the sky
fearless woman; tender child
eyes that shine with tears and light
lips of ruby red forming
words of new delight
feathered wings steer this flight of
fiercely tender paradox
moving toward myself
I found this tucked away in my list of posts never published. Somehow it feels right for this Sunday morning. (It was written March 20, 2007).
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