I forgave you.

I held your hand,
– you couldn’t find peace.
you gasped…
you clung to your breath,
until we both choked upon it.

When you finally let go
I allowed my suffering to
be your companion.

This memory is a gift
– never again,
will darkness swallow me
from behind.

As death took your hand
It wasn’t right,
but I was the one
who found peace… x

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My fingers linger
over the soft curve
at the base of your spine.
They like being there
where it feels like sunlight.

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I love words – like kisses they are delicious and free.
Yet are they enough? Today a friend of mine asked me my interpretation of a message she received…
which of course led me to ponder…
We can say words, write the words, deliver words, interpret words, but how do we know if the writer is authentically feeling the words, living the words and acting the words? Or is it simply that our minds always seek more, are we conditioned to continually look for more depth, ulterior motives.. less simplicity even in words.
Are words not capable of standing on their own and meaning what they say? I think that maybe they are….But, only if they come from a place of integrity and from the heart. Therein lies our dilemma – how do we really know ??? Alone and unaccompanied they are just words – it is we, who must breathe life into them. It is we, who can deliver them and make them dance.
So in the end, all I could offer her was Osho’s wisdom- “words are like flowers and the meaning is like the fragrance. I can give you the flower but I cannot give you the fragrance.”
Perhaps we can all try to say our words with kindness, integrity and heart so that others can find fragrance.
Even if it is only for one moment – every one of us can be that person who brings perfume to the world.
Namaste x

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