Flower of the Flock

In the rain at dawn, inconsolable
abed, he doesn’t even lift his head.
Adorable and grumpy old man missing
the woman prone to kissing. She had warned

mornings he likes to be alone. We fit
surreal, exact behavior pet sit
repeated and reflected for my heart’s
sweet wisdom teaching. I’m reaching to start

a new way of being. So releasing
old perspectives, new idioms teasing
from the weighted words designed to enslave.
Experience I generate now, brave

and willing to share what keeps revealing
each strong bright presence no more concealing
how we flower in our time through stages
creation we source unique, outrageous.

Inspired by: Idiom, Rain, Surreal, Exact and the gorgeous blooming yard where I’m petsitting.

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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