Words from the Past

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METANOIA

It’s my choice
I can change my mind
It’s my prerogative
Which way am I inclined?

Oh, an afterthought
And the questions assail my mind
What is my purpose
Hmm! How am I inclined?

I am a product of my everyday
What I read, what I say
The people I associate with,
What I listen to, eat and drink

But deep in my soul
I know my spiritual path
Inner growth, maturation
A deep contrast
Yet it’s time to embody my Soul
And let all else that no longer serves me… Go

SCINTILLA

A quick flash
A brilliant spark
Like a diamond in the dark of night
A sentient being or could it be a wight, I seen?

A crack of light
To fast for my naked eye
Like a burning ember in flight
Ahh, the soft warm glow of the firefly

Hundreds of lightning fae
I stand bewitched by their erratic path
Dancing like pixie dust falls
In a frisson of dazzling flight

And then they were gone…

 

SILLAGE

A scent that lingers in the air
Divine impression
Awakening a curious vibe

La trace du parfum de quelqu’un

The sillage permeates
Through the open window
Like a fresh Spring morning

Le printemps est le temps de l’amour

And tickles his nose
Enticing him to come closer
Excitement, hope… Nostalgia

Un amour perdu dans le passé

 

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