The rolling stone
gathers no moss,
It only wears away.
There is no rest.
There is no foundation.
There is no soft place
to land.
Stop. Please.
Come here, my Love,
my Heart, my Darling Woman.
Into my arms;
This lush green garden,
bursting forth
with blossoms.
The perfumed air
a promise of solace,
and protection.
All under
the
O so welcoming Light.