the traditions of my childhood
cling to my understanding
the cloth woven from the tapestry of the ages
binds my hands, obscures my ears, hides my face

the flowers bloom in the light
the caterpillar blooms in the blossom
though the winds hold back the passing of winter
the light leads the season of spring to be born

and lo, the love of the moment is not hindered
by the patient and unknowing timelessness of the wind
love and light are one; they dance in the moment of the miracle
this instant, each instant, holding great potential for joy

this poem, i write to you
it springs forth from my heart
like the budding of spring, unstopped by the winter's anchor
my heart is unfettered by the whims of my mind

my heart speaks to your heart.....