“To me, the greatest pleasure of writing is not what it’s about, but the music the words make.”
– Truman Capote

The music of intuitive writing

I let my fingers dance on the keyboard

With the rhythm of my heart.

That what sings

Is the surrender to love field.

That what is of eternity have a sound,

a melody

That may change with every breathe of beingness.

It is a blue calling to join,

Into eternal dance of music

Of my beloved within.

And like honey…

I have melted into the dance

The rhythm of the music of the words

That dance within me into the existence

To be shared into a love celebration.

In the absolute acceptance of what is.

The breath of now

Is that of the God.

Breathing through me

Beloved

As I type love letters to thee

From the eternity of my surrendered heart.

copyrighted to Ella R

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