Sometimes
the world comes to me in shapes and colors
I do not understand,
moving me in circles inside my heart
until I am left feeling lost and separated from the gift of love
bathed in pure sadness.
It is then I run into the forest to rest, shed my weariness, and
listen to the "song of my breath."
Each spec of nature comes to me
bringing lost pieces of my soul
until at last; wings are formed around the last hint of
darkness inside of me
and it is carried away.
Her song has blended with my being
and our spirits roll in peace.
Author Unknown
I saw this poem over at the Magic Onion and thought it was perfect to share.
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