How Can I Tell You

In the country meadow now by choice,
Unable to resist that purest voice,
The one that sings of a spirit set free,
Who beckons and calls, “come to me”.

How can I give your mind wings to fly into the breeze,
And to feel the sun and rain that brought me to my knees?
To my knees in reverence at the sounds , tastes and smells,
And to the place where hearts rejoice and my spirit dwells.

No city sounds….

In this place there is only the symphony of creation,
Invisible movement brushing in sensuous flirtation.
Time passes quietly; minutes become blissful calming hours,
Just watching a swaying dance between grass and flowers.

No city tastes….

In this place there are no pizzas or burgers and fries,
Only grassy blades and flower stems beneath blue skies.
There is no hunger as contentment fills the soul.
It’s fills as the newness of first love taken for a stroll.

No city smells….

In this place there is the smell of heaven’s sweet perfume,
The scent of fresh cut flowers in your mother’s sitting room.
Wafting through the air, pungent odors tantalize and tease.
It’s Mother Earth’s aroma therapy and guaranteed to please.

I learn more each and every day
Just no way to tell or words to say…

…for…

How can I tell you how it feels to be
Held in the palm of all eternity?

Cecelia 2009