Petals beneath my footsteps ~a poem by Linda Willows



Petals deep silken fall beneath my footsteps,
I linger to feel each round cloud that soft lets.
Wanderings embrace of Love’s kindness retraced.
Oh, a bounty brings near such never-ending Grace.

Silver strands weave into budding new Heart,
announcing the tellings of shining path’s start.
Pull all of the sweetness, the flower, the rose,
make a parcel of this and see peace in repose.

Would that the droplet of this magical, such feat
could sprinkle like dew over all that may weep.
The silk of the petal upon the Path’s lasting way
could embrace and soften each journey’s bouquet.

©2012 Linda Willows

Photograph by Emil Motei

“The Love Ravine…” ~a poem by Linda Willows

When the White bends
it falls so far
so deeply from
the Bright, its’ Star…
Alone it keeps
it’s darkened plight.
The flower weeps.
It lives in night.
It grasps, it seeks
it needs, it keeps…
the flower’s Light,
It’s Lover sleeps.

What Breath to press
upon such need,
to bend the true
Love budding feed?
Come breathe, come flow,
vein open, all to go.
This bending aching
Light’s retraction
needs the full and due
of Love extraction.
Come the breathing,
come the airs.
Come the Whites
such calls despair.

Beauty pressing,
naked petals.
All of longing lives between.
Leave the bended, unrelenting
founded whites to now be seen.
Let the way
that Touched the air
and found it fair
return the light, repeal, repent
Oh Bright…just dare.

The White must bloom
They take the day
No other bend
may shape the way
Come anywhere,
come as before
come with no tear,
come with no war…
Bring all the Bright,
all seen between,
send each as true
in thy Brightened Being
Bend the Light steepened,
now redeemed,
forsaken from such Love Ravine.

©2012 Linda Willows

Photograph by Piet Flour

“Soul kissed” ~a poem by Linda Willows

Heaven touched my face and lips,
as dew in gentle spirit’s kiss.
It rushed these Petals here for bliss
that I may feel the Soul of such wish.

Only in the gentle midst
Of sacred gather in such mists,
would I come to find the hush
that follows love’s first sacred rush.

That and all born tender such
as Heaven finds my Heart’s love’s touch,
is wondrous, kind and dear to the tips
of Soul met parts of this Heart, when kissed.

©2012 Linda Willows

Photograph by Esteban Rios