Creative Flow, the
unending river of creation.
Only stopped within, when
a person stands up, and
tries to control the wind.

Never, is creativity absent.
It’s the source of all that is,
In fact, You would not be here,
if not for the urge to merge
into the original creative explosion.

Empty of sin, thoughts
of lack, shame and judgment.
All is released back to life, for
the sake of fully being human.

To doubt this flow, is to think
you know where life should go.
Ignored is the present gift to relax
and watch the miracle unfold.

To surrender all -over to this
the breath that allows and gives;
Nothing to take credit for,
all belongs to life, the fruit
not mine, hers, or his.

The apple birthed by everything.
Impossible is the tree its sources.
Once you see this clearly, all
of life, tenderly, becomes yours.