Here i sit at the Hilton having a raspberry tea and yogurt when it dawned on me.  I sit abound in a sea of green bamboo plants,sofas and two palm shade trees keeping the glare from my paper.

Someone told me i was a bowl that holds  the knowledge of god, sacred water within a potters bowl on a secure foundation on the table of David's fathers house.  A beautiful centerpiece with the petals open and glistening in the sun.

Now the mystery is, How did the seed not know where it grew?  How can the water not know the bowl or what sustains it?  How can the flower not know it's scent?  The wonders are ever lingering within the eyes of the stranger who see's into the center of the flowers scent with compassion for the living soul, no matter the surroundings.

The bowl contains a history of the souls coming and going through the waters ripples to support the seeds path of growth.  All the while as we see the growth of a flower maintaining and becoming a masterpiece from the scents of the master.  How then could a flower not smell sweet and alluring like the glow from the newly acquired soul in the form of a gem called hope?

Hope dances upon the page like a rainbow through the diamond of my ring, like dancers in your heart.  The sun shines with warmth to snuggle into the center of your chest.  The stars shine in your smile as your eyes reflect the lovely days gone by.  Dreams come and go but you are but a memory unto me as the ripples  are stirred daily by the angels who sing to the flower on the alter of  the table of his magistee'  for the non stop growth of humanity.