“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,
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
As I type love letters to thee
From the eternity of my surrendered heart.
copyrighted to Ella R