Cynthias Water


Cynthia’s Water

I am

the dark spiraling waters of an ancient and sacred sea
evolving in the hidden white moons rhythmic embrace.

My mystic hearts eyes of old are large and wise.

I see

with rainbow veiled wonder instruments of this world to be.

I see

butterfly wings dancing in the field.

I see

deep and low heart beat melodies
and children’s high laughter with the gaiety they wield.

I see

The fleshy lies of men and women.


with my eyes and hearts memory…

I hear

the wisdom of my mother’s voice.

I hear

my own voice.

I smell

the emotions rain coming.


I feel
rainbows made wet  from your tear made aura.


I feel

old faces, some familiar, some new.


I walk

on the diamond shards of glass

and on the soft milkweed of fields sewn through.


I flow

through life a magnificent long river moving stronger objects with my silky persistence.
Environments have frozen me within themselves and broken with my inner resolve.

I am

fire made water.

I am

the touch of the old and dark waters of an ancient and sacred sea.



About this poem.

Cynthia was a very influential art teacher, spiritual mentor and otherwise amazing person I knew while I was a homeless youth in Hollywood.

I came across this writing I wrote in honor of her, and even though we have lost touch, I still remember her. Thank you, Cynthia, for all your guidance and inspiration!

(Image Credit: by bella67 of Pixabay.Com)


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