Let my words
Like birds
Fly high
And like a wisp of a cloud
on a clear blue sky
rest gently upon the soul of he who reads them; soft or aloud.
Let my writing be
Like branches growing unrestrained and free
burst forth with leaf, fruit and flower
Comfort the weary, the hungry and those in search of beauty
Let it fall upon the parched land like the first rain shower
after a long, hot summer; quenching the thirsty.
Let my thoughts, like the sun
Though one
Never fail to amaze, fill with awe and inspire
Let it like an artist’s brush
Spread color, set the blank canvas of a mind on fire
Slow and sure, layer by layer; let there be no rush.
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Eúnoia 
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