I walk beneath the island trees
rekindling lost fire,
awakening to her presence.
Cool air from the north
flows across the broad sea
lifting white caps
on billowing waves.
She’s coming to greet me
with her blessing basket.
How can I refuse?
I walk beneath the island trees
rekindling lost fire,
awakening to her presence.
Cool air from the north
flows across the broad sea
lifting white caps
on billowing waves.
She’s coming to greet me
with her blessing basket.
How can I refuse?
i’m feeling this too Don, as I sit on our deck with the stream running below and the mountains cresting across the horizon.
Simply beautiful!
Thank you. Brings out the sailor in me, loving the sea’s guidance and messages. Critical to ocean navigation–and to heart.
You CAN’T refuse! (smile)
Blessings flow as one greets the morning sun
greets the day
baskets overflowing
as we gather together
aware awake
trusting the flow…
Thanks Don for once again creating a visual picture for us to see♥️
This reminds me that I carry the basket and need only turn towards the wind alway blowing my way- if only I would pay attention- even when I am not it is still blowing, consciousness always on the crest. Glory BE.
So lovely, Don. Poignant and simple.
Thank you for this morning gift
…beautiful.
Refreshing, Don. Your blessing basket of poetry seems bottomless! Thank you, my friend.