The Typo Stands

We are giving birth to a global being with a collective intelligence. ~ Thomas Huebl

She is a guest in this house

peering through the diaphanous

curtains.  Longing to sink

roots deep, she visits the nearby

forest, focused on fairy

folk who might hear

her frantic cry.  She needs

help.  She wants to be

cherished.  I invite her 

to move in,

sit for a spell

but too many things need doing

an infatuation to file

puzzle pieces that don’t seem

to fit.  She’s pushing and jamming

wailing like a tired

toddler, wanting


to direct her

to the safe

napping place

to stand guard

I am sitting

as she races past

once again

toward the ringing bell

the promise of a new land

where she can be

herself finally.

Does she glimpse me

in her spin this time?

There’s nothing to do,

only to be

aware, spaciousness

and still

here, the doors

flung wise.

Inspired by:  Infatuation, Guest, Diaphanous


Published by

Victoria Stuart

I'm a poet, philosopher and inner seeker. A giver, lover and a healer who studies the heart.

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