Whimsically Divine

Summer Day on Farm


It took the gifts of a child prodigy to shatter the rock-hard seed imprisoning the child in me.

I emerge slowly blinking away the darkened ooze hiding me as the sunlight once more tickles my soul.

I run the flower meadows of forgotten dreams, breathless.

I charge forth a mariner sailing the wave of God remembered.

My inner child is a whimsically divine floating prism of rainbow color. She light and fairy free is no longer fettered by ivy vine illusions strangling life’s energy like a vagabond.

I, relieved, shed the cloak back to the real of me,

I am once more a child.

I am whimsically divine.

I am.


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