Back to The Garden by Donna Smallenberg
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“The ancestors whisper,
Thru the leaves.
Disguising themselves as trees.
And I,
Slowly pass so many,
By.
Flow with the water in your roots.
Remember the music of the Celtic flute.
Long ago in the countryside.
When you ran a horse far,
And wide.
Dusty shoes,
And an Angel’s face.
The trees softly whisper,
“Remember your place.”
The ancestors whisper thru the leaves.
Disguising themselves,
As trees.”
Written by Lucia Sullivan copyright 2019 all rights reserved
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MmMmM I so loved this. Anything involving trees and a feeling of ancientness is beauty to my heart. I love the reminder as well. Lovely. Kimberly π
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Thank you Kimberly π³π²π± Blessings
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My pleasure Shekinah. Blessings, Love & Light to you! I genuinely enoy all you share – never stop being YOU. ππ₯°ππ
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Such a sweet comment, thank you dear Kimberly ~ and I must admit it is too late in the day for me to change except, hopefully, in greater spiritual awareness! π’ππ’
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