I waited,
For ice to thaw,
For new buds to bloom,
For a season to settle
on solid rock,
to utter a truth
from undisturbed waters
where views know understanding,
and perceptions are clear,
For the eye holds no debris,
no locked chamber
or house of secrets,
but fields of nurtured soil below my feet,
that I may discern
what the divine sees.

© fruitfulodyssey