The Fields of Mountain Flowersfor my wife, on Valentine's Day Feb 14, 2001 No longer alone. Liberated from the turtle shell of flight; of pain; of hell. My mind is wrapped around your heart, My heart is imbedded in every cell of your being. Moments come when we're apart; Brief interludes of pacing, Peering out of windows, Waiting, For the sound of your return, Murmuring in second hand time, "When will you be home?" The joy of watching you smile, Hearing you laugh, as we breathe the day light air, Is sealed at night, Nestled against your warmth, Holding your breast, Rubbing your back, Until sleep nudges between us. My mind soars into the future, Ten thousand years, To the fields of riotous Mountain flowers that will wrap Around us, singing to us about love, Admiring our youth and vigor and endless passion. God will be there, with a joyful candor that will make True love natural. Surrounded by great-grandchildren, and friends popping in Without a bit of warning, We'll laugh With the sound of the universe, And dance with the steps of love. Peter Falkenberg Brown is passionate about writing, publishing, public speaking and film. He hopes that someday he can live up to one of his favorite mottos: “Expressing God’s kind and compassionate love in all directions, every second of every day, creates an infinitely expanding sphere of heart.”
(Comments are moderated and must be approved.) “The Epiphany of Zebediah Clump”
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