Hope and gratitude
Hope is a very delicate thing. A tender whisper cupped to breast. I can place it in the arms of gratitude and allow it to flourish. It is but a tiny presence purring ‘grow me’. I surrender in it’s call for grace. The unknown pregnant with miracles beyond my awareness. All I can do is trust. I bathe in stream of gratitude, taste the honey of now. Fruit pressed to my lips allowing gentle crease, tastes of heaven. In the now I am whole.
My Romance with life.
The morning dawns gently whispering through my blinds. Fluff of comforter softly against my skin. Gratitude released through lips of a smile. Engulfed in last nights cocoon, layers upon my waking body, I snuggle into the softness.
I feel the tingle of life across my being. Hear the hum of the garbage truck feeding it’s belly diligently. Creaking as it works it’s form, sporadic release of air hissing it’s effort. Cars exert their honking, an echo in the background. The city’s animals are waking up, their mechanical stirrings pleasantly thick.
Adventure tugs at my toes tenderly. My heart increase beat with wonder. No matter how a day is planned, I can never truly know what is going to happen. It is in the unknown that creation breathes.
My fingertips, highly sensitive to each touch, scroll across material. Awakens my connect with life, as life. The portals of me yawn awake calling attention. I listen to their ancient wisdom as they ask. My only answer is yes.
Nature’s voice prominent. I surrender. Breathe ecstasy, pour through me, in me, as me.
My life is my romance.