Where do you go, sweet bell?
Where do you hide
when I long to feel your voice
sing through my bones?
I only know you;
the place I call home.
I only know you, dear constant voice
of heart,
of soul,
of love.
Oh.
But here you are again, little bird.
Here you are with the words I have missed,
the song I have so wished to hear on the wind.
Stay a while.
Please stay a while, sweet muse of mine.
Somewhere between the quiet
and the haze, I go
to sit for a while.
Somewhere
between the quiet
and the haze.
And you might ask me
what I hope to find there.
You might ask me if it’s true.
That the haze shimmers like a thousand suns,
and the quiet melts like vanilla cream
on apple pie, oh, sweet love.
I would tell you
you must seek for yourself
the whispers, true.
Somewhere between the quiet and the haze
you must go.
Maybe I’m sitting in a tree, somewhere, looking down at it all. I’m sure my feet are dangling, and I’m probably whistling in harmony with the wind through the branches.
What do I see when I look down at my life? I see myself sitting quietly at a little white desk, typing away, visualising a peaceful version of myself up there.
Peaceful me would look down at the small children running circles around the house, see me wincing at the too many seconds of loud for comfort and she’d send a little caring my way. An invisible hug, maybe. Whatever I might need to soothe me.
She’d also look down and see me laughing to the point of holding my belly. The six-year-old. The most HILARIOUS trick anyone has ever played on me. He’s managed to pull it off, and I highly doubt he’ll be able to top such brilliance in both wit and execution again, but I’ll remain on guard, just in case. Peaceful me would know that’s the first time I’ve laughed like that in a long, long time.Then she’d send a great big smile my way.
Peaceful me would see the good and bad of it and whisper to me: it’s all good.
It’s all good.
I breathe
but I can’t feel you.
I soften but creation does not flow.
Am I stuck?
Or do I just think
I am stuck
because I am not flying
through raw wisps of forestland?
It is my choice to be there,
drifting in the emerald sweet.
Where I am meant to be.
Where I will always be in my mind.
And my heart.
Sweet Love.
I wander among the daisies, knowing you are there
traveling lightly in the fields of life,
towards home.
I have loved you sweetly
with the quiet of me,
my heart, my soul, my muse.
I will wait. Here.
In the fields of our forever.
I will wait.
Come to me, sweet muse.
Float into my heart and wake me from sleep.
Light the fire within and shine me on my way
for a thousand lifetimes.
I see you, sweet muse, for what you are to me.
A million dreams to share.
A million dreams
to unlock the pure and gentle ecstasy of the world.
brooke-cutler.com 