Born in my cloud of hope,
blinding dust, spirals of smoke
deafen me to your inner light, I cried
out to the vastness
pulled and pressed
like my childhood
dreams of death.
The people, the people
they do not know
the timelessness—
the deep
black
holes.
Oh, I see—
the birds, the bees
the leaves ballet
the petals,
the green.
A sachet full—
sticks and stones
shimmering—
the earth—
pearl—
scented life
blue
in
yellow—
an oyster shell
touched with pink
an offering
flung to the stream.
The Goddess is here
with you and me.
Silent voice
past summer breeze
our love
becomes
part of
eternity.
Thank you for your
gracious gift
more precious than song
or any lyric.
Our souls live on
we are—
spirit.
Love,
Cleo
Dear Little Star © 2025 All rights reserved.
