Inspiration begets imagination,
Turning the clock to twelve.
Chimes blending in nature's reveille.
Task and no task as one of hope
    begets love.
Blending and molding until one is two
    and two is one.
Flowing forever to perfection.

The disciplines of life-
Overflowing in love of spirit,
    love of heart,
    love of soul—
Create deep waters of strength,
    folding and unfolding in a
    cauldron of love.

Fly away, meet the spirits of life and love
    wherein flow the gifts of hope, and peace,
    multiplied a 1000 times to one-
Holy and righteous in God's sight.

Relax into the moment, head held high.

^©Sharon Terry
1996

Dreams

When the night approaches,
turning day into somersaults of memory,
I ponder what dreams may lie upon my pillow
casting shadows into my mind as I lie to rest.

Dreams do not awaken what is,
but what could be,
and, oh, how we shudder at those could bes
--Sometimes.

In reality there is stability in convention,
in knowing what to expect around us,
but in dreams--ahh--the doing of all sorts of
shameful things?

We shudder!

^©Sharon Terry
2000