Metanoia begs the muse   believe...              
"Accept the current, do not fight the flow."      

True, and known,
these aching limbs must
rest within the deepest ebb
- as the ocean swells
with each new
moon.

Drifting far
when floating; Sinking
deeply into crystal nothingness
- unless held by a sturdy rock,
tethered taut.
                
Promises sung, in rounds, stay...
Swirled upon a blushed summers breeze; Heard,
liberated, in flight's of birdsong
across sunset skies.
  
       Connected distant energies may still   
but for always, will burn brightly in each
& every shining light seen by
her sextant soul

[eyes]
on the
   Voyage  
      ahead.    

"Surrender the past  & tomorrow  comes... 
un-blinkered,
never unbound."
  
~ ♥ ~