River stones in your bag
Hidden there once by loving hands
Sacred knowledge still present, radiates
Portfolio of visions rest with literary cousins
Buddha, in a sphere, so hard to see
But he’s really there
Dark green cotton feels like warmth
Wrapped around me sometimes
Incense ashes mixed with sand
Cupped in silver
Seeds of hope gifted in sincerity
Sleep with ornamental expressions
Perspective changed
Injured creature transformed
Beauty internal
Light now illuminates dark corners
Seasons well spent
Willing curiosity
Repeat messages delivered and received
Where communication is safe
Behind consciousness’ veil drawn for the stars
I understand...
I wait...
It will come...
Forgiveness is the fruit that I feed us both