The womb of a mother is a cradle for a child to grow in
a nine month gestation grace period is a child's sweet elation
Mother tenderly sings to her little one as she waits to give birth !

A mother is a vessel of purity, also a    

Mother's heart, is full of love for her child
Object of her desire, "a baby with ten little toes and ten little fingers"
Tenderly woven thoughts arrive at the font of her pregnancy
Hieroglyphical sounds and body rotations, she is mesmerized
Enchanted by a human life growing inside of her she
Reveres the treasure within her and prays for safe delivery
Search the whole world over and you will never find a purer

Love, than the love a mother has for her child
Over the moon and infatuated with her infant she cradles  
Validating her affections to the gem before her eyes
Each time a woman delivers a child, Angels pluck their harps of gold.  

Copyright © Mystic Rose Rose | Year Posted 2022

The most beautiful morning stretches before my eyes
beneath a parapet of pink gloaming, one promised breath
All Remains of yesterday swallowed by a burst of fresh air
both window and I are privy to a turtle dove cooing on my ledge
"This is not my habitat"  she seems to coo sweetly  
I answer her in honesty " it isn't mine either" sweet thing
The coffee smells good and my dippy egg is semi-soft
I sense a new beginning and I am not afraid;
Tomorrow's hopes are perched safely on my shoulder
and somehow, I am not afraid of growing older
Heaven is not a pipe dream mirage from where I stand
God is having a giggle, at the turtle dove and I

Written by: Mystic Rose

We are depleting our planet little by little while taking what we need
perhaps this is the time to give back to Mother Earth and plant a seed
Imagine yourself in the forest picking chanterelles, like times of old
Wild animals running free, deer panting by the river with eyes of gold
Take a deep breath in, (hold) breathe out
Giant trees with leafy arms that encircle you with love and breeze
they talk to you in whispers, about the magical ignite of precious soil
Best part of you is now immersed inside this magical embroil
you are part of the whole, part of everything that breathes
Take a deep breath in, (hold) breathe out  
Place your back against the trunk of a tree and allow the energy to enter
Up in the heavens the angels are sending you rays of golden sun
Your creator is re-shaping you like a soft pliable piece of clay
he wants you back tot he original shape of the creature you once were
Take a deep breath in, (hold) breathe out  
You own blessed hands, a blessed heart and a capable body that works
give thanks for the gift of living, give thanks to Mother Earth
and the One who has given you life, you are loved beyond all measure.

God speaks as conscience;
childlike innocence.
When we disobey,
soul’s blue skies turn grey.

The ever changing moods of a soul that longs to be free
can be varied and vast like an ocean's fluctuate artistry
So often we lose the hearing of the young
replacing it with stubborn ears of old that refuse to believe
Having stared at grey skies for a lifetime we no longer
sheen the Faith of our forefathers ;
We never turn the finger nor blame the culprit  
for the turning of events
we turn a blind eye to our past actions
the ones that have led us astray;  
God speaks as conscience but sometimes
we interpret His voice any which way we please
when soul's blue skies turn grey,
whos fault is it anyway !

Betrayed by our hand,
life’s barren and bland,
until we awake;
dark desires forsake.
Engulfed in the carnage desires of flesh and wanton beat
we lose sight of the glorious pregnant gardens of our youth
Slighting beauty we abuse of the God given gift of choice  
we opt for a barren and bland life of repetitive fractal sins;
Betrayed by our own hand we have no recourse
until we awaken to the calling of an Arching blessing;  
Then we move into a colored world full of bright nuances,  
where everyone can see that we have finally understood
the true meaning of being fully awakened by the Spirit.
Amen !

April beauties waiting to be born beneath the warmer soil
every spring flower sings the praises of the seeds before
Applause them, for they are brave to return with petals
full of bloom, time and time again just to scent our garden
They show up with sheer delight looking all so pretty,  
in their bright petals of red, yellow and purple too;

April showers  ever so generous with their water works  
refreshing the air with sweet petrichor they drench us to the core
We all know that after the rain, rainbows are never far in toe
Streaks of color bringing promises of hope and renewal
I for one am glad that April is finally here,
we should go out and plant a seed, now that the winter's gone away

The End.

Clean vessels made of snow and powder dust
softly lifting from the gaze of the wind
Gentle hands rising towards the heavenly realm
Soft as the rain on a spider web in the early morning dawn
silky as the waters of the Meridian sea
Song of the lark reaching across the meadows of your mind
even the angels are grazing the portals of human kind  
Eyes wide open, heart agape, soul enamored
mala beads gently clacking awakening the presence
into the field of green we go to find the burnished ambers
of yesterday's lifetime glows
where we will end up , nobody knows
and so the feeling grows, and so the feeling goes
into those beautiful vessels of ours,
made of powder dust and snow.
Purity of mind, a precious find...