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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required We are living in the middle, you and I, between butterfly beginnings - ethereal endings. Despite Natural Law, I'm persuaded to pause; if possible, dear, let chrysalis continue ... Timothy Levi Hicks Living in the Middle Rules of life restrict us from infancy. If instincts are true we thrive, each new lesson, a cynosural guide to success, an urge to forget those practices made to thwart happiness. Spare spending habits, avoiding the seven deadly sins, passages, and reaching for that metaphoric sky Until, true love, that mystic carriage to what may be; the chrysalis that cradles heightened mystery. The inevitable enduring of drudge before we fly. We are living in the middle, you and I. There is much we live, reliant upon chance happenings. What if we had never met? If our paths had never intersected or, if they did, we failed to connect. Missed the perfect moment when the sky was right to usher in romance, the laws of allurement that shaped 'Plaisir d'amor' in magical renderings. The ardent awareness of simpler things; Brilliant colors, ambrosial kisses and heavenly perfumes. The harmony of mutual understandings between butterfly beginnings-ethereal endings. The eager phase of dreams, of promises made, getting used to things- some expected, some not. then the arduous art of forgiving. Our consent to cherish common objectives. Was it happenstance our love succeeded - or was it Because we overlooked each other's flaws- What we expected in the moment? Two souls astounded to be of the same accord; that a chance encounter could be the cause. Despite Natural Law, I'm persuaded to pause; Too quickly the paragraphs of time we rèad. Hand in hand we strolled the pages of our years, standing fast against misfortunes we emerged, shaped by caring and forbearing hearts. Refusing to imagine life devoid of one another, fighting new adversity with every sinew. Nothing earthly, or in heaven, can measure this small eternity we have made ourselves. No matter how circumstance may try to spin you, if possible, dear, let chrysalis continue ... Suzanne Delaney A Glosa
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