A poem on making space for love’s meanderings.
Love meanders in and through
like slow trickle of rain
through an opening.
Once you notice it,
but too often the
When we don’t practice truly seeing
this life exchange
we miss an intimacy with
love’s surprising roots.
See this love at play
in your days.
Live in ways
that open up possibility of creative wanderings,
conjuring the elements that give life.
Just like making bread:
when ingredients are missing, it falls flat.
What do you need each day for a delicious existence?
Make space for it.
Trust this wild love.
Follow each trickle to the end.