Our Soul Is The River

Our soul is the canvas

our soul is the river

shining deeper into life 

as this knowing here within me

lights the way through

the depths

the hidden path 

the trodden past

and detours all along the way.

 

And I only see beauty

but the soul knows

there is more need

to open the trap door

and shine rainbow light over to see

what is still inside me. 

So where my hands and feet are numb

I feel the weight of more lifting,

things yet to be handled, or arranged,

but now I ask myself:

What truly matters in my life?

 

I see and feel

what is arising

I am guided on how or when to be open,

to listen to insights

to see more and to curiously explore.

 

In time, I see more light

and I feel more warmth.

I come to gently wiggle my toes

as I welcome softness and ease.

Oh Yes please. 

Let me be the Helper I will always Be?

 

This poem came to me, 2 months ago 

and there is more to follow. Next post 

is The Little Helper, tomorrow.

 

This photo was taken a week ago when

I was talking to my mother Myrtle's Mountain Ash tree,

after an early walk 

through the new growth of Myrtle Wattles,

around these old eucalyptus trees.

It is nearly 7 years since the wildfires.