Perspectives...

I see the road to your lap so clearly, The long winded red brick road, with tulips, roses, your favorite flowers,  It calls out for me whenever I pass by, Then why do I hesitate to take this road? The other roads are similar, They don't offer me the love that the red brick road does,     but it offers other stuff that seem  worldly, I don't hesitate to plunge on those roads. I can see you sitting at the end of the road,  waiting on your rocking chair,       you have been waiting for me, Our eyes meet and I can see the longing in your eyes,     as you can see the longing in mine. I have had these moments before, But I still take the other roads, Deep within I know I will always find you there, At the end of the road on your rocking chair, waiting for me. I did the same today, But in a fleeting moment of despair, I ran back to the brick road, But I cant see you sitting on your rocking chair,  I ...

The space between the land and sea    that's where I want to exist Equally in touch with the ephemeral and the ethereal,    the concrete and the sublime,    the enjoyment of this very moment and the life looking at the future,    the cacophony and the stillness Its fun right here in the middle,    knowing but still staring at the fallacy, But alas, I turn back...    and dive deep into the sea...

So I traveled all around, through the uphill mountains, the clouds,  the magnificent palaces, the expensive theme parks, man made structures, that ironically, give you a better view of the world... By the grace of fortune, I have seen a lot... But why does my soul still yearns... It yearns for my mother's hand on my hair, listening to my father's anecdotes, breathing the air when the family is together on the porch, the cup of tea that holds the wisdom of life, the fluttering of leaves that resonates with my beating heart, It yearns for the grounded feeling of the rocking chair facing the sun the calming strength of my grandfather's words, the sound of tea being sieved into my favorite cup, the warmth of my husband's arms, the weathering pages of my favorite books, the conversations that invoke a more authentic self, It yearns for the rush in the smallest acts of kindness,   and the small moments when we live for something bigger than ourselves... ...