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Joanna 8h
The path I walk is lit, and yet there is a determined commitment to make it fit.

I realize I did not come to this on my own, and no one enters with a heart of stone.

And, for those who fear, life has its ups and downs. But to the overcomer, love moves without a sound.

Giving certainty that there is hope in the darkest night, through the work of the potter and the vinedresser hand.

There is the work of the turtledove and the eagle in flight, giving certainty that there is hope in the darkest night.

And then, with a little bread and a little wine, the miracle of silence is revealed in time.

The path is lit to restore a place to draw near, to something bigger than what is often unclear.
To read more of my writings go to:
http://reflectionsoflight7.wixsite.com/home
Joanna 1d
Vessels of light, not beacons of terror, showing the way out for those in despair.

Rays of hope release comfort in the midst, and a rest that is contagious when nothing else fits.

Mirrors of wisdom meant to soothe and heal, the one caught in a never-ending wheel.

Soon to be revealed with the passing of time, these vessels are crucial to unveiling loves eternal sign.
To read more of my writings go to: http://reflectionsoflight7.wixsite.com/home
Joanna 1d
Who decides it? Fragments of thought,
keep me restless and caught.

Moving like sand ***** on an open shore,
they leave a pattern that breaks the spell.

Making their mark in a mystery of light
that beckons me to recognize hidden insight

Even so, the challenge remains. Staying in the
moment and not playing games,

with those who know nothing of the need.

Rather than, walking the plank with emotional
sap. I choose to remove the hidden weeds of this
deadly trap.
To read more of my writings go to:
http://reflectionsoflight7.wixsite.com/home
Joanna 1d
In the flight of the butterfly, I see such grace. Butterflies rarely need others, to give it space.

In the progression of the river, I see such strength, moving here and there they go the length.

In the beauty of a seashell, I see a mystery within. In the journey of an ant, I observe no hidden wheels.

Ants carry their load and do not try to make a deal. In the beauty of a sunrise that goes full circle into a sunset.

And I am mindful of a moment that I will not soon forget.
To read more of my writings go to; http://reflectionsoflight7.wixsite.com/home
Joanna 2d
Little bunny soft and warm you make my heart feel a lot
less torn.Running free like a butterfly, you run through the
garden and don't try to hide.

Little flower delicate and fine, you thrill me more than fine
wine. Blooming in the moment, you brighten my way, simple
and unique like a new day.

Little one with the big eyes, your laughter is amazing, and
therein lies the gift. You live without a care and heal the rift.
Looking to be loved, and to love, you cause me to say what
if.

Little shell upon the beach what an adventure you had and
a lesson you teach. Washed in the surf and then landing here,
you make my path magical and less unsure.
To read more of my writings go to: http://reflectionsoflight7.wixsite.com/home
Joanna 3d
With one voice, one heart and one mind, I see this journey as an inner sign that:

Love runs a pathway straight to my heart when I am willing to let my life take a jump start.

Hope grows like a flower in the dead of the night when I find my refuge in the light. And faith becomes real when what is hidden is unsealed.

Lampposts guide my feet along the way when I am aware faith, hope, and love, are here to stay.

Seeing there is a new doorway to explore, I walk with a focus on what is now in store.
To read more of my writings go to: http://reflectionsoflight7.wixsite.com/home
Joanna 4d
More than before and less than yesterday, my heart knows  a new path and a will not stray.

More than the waves that crash on a private beach, less than the rage a storm can reach.

More than the beauty of a summer sunset, less than the brilliance of the sun rising.

More than lit it's like a falling star, less than a monsoon rain renewing the place of refuge that we are.

More than a beginning that is looking for the perfect end. More than and less than...its time to stop saying when?
To read more of my writings go to:
http://reflectionsoflight7.wixsite.com/home
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