Finding Our Way

I've been away from these pages for quite some time.  And many of my friends and family have asked me to return.  I'll let you know where my road has taken me, and how I've found my way back, but  I'll save my story for a later day, though, because I've promised some new friends, a marvelous group of artists from our class of "The Artist's Way" in St. Petersburg, Florida, that I would return   with this.  

The following is dedicated to you, my new friends, for your love, inspiration, and joy.  I hope that you see yourselves within these lines.  Because, together, we are . . . 

Finding Our Way        

One by one we make our way
slipping into our seat, timidly aware.
We've been told that this is the place to find
the answer to our secret prayer.

So we come from jobs in tall buildings,
or from studios, or classrooms, or gardens, 
Or homes, or work station shelves,
and by joining the circle, recalling
Once-forgotten promises to ourselves.

Each morning we write pages our intention to keep,
Streaming thoughts and emotions bubbling up from our sleep.
We make dates, and in our planners circling the day,
stretching our hearts back to find the joy of spirit at play.

Hands to hold horns, to balance paintbrushes, to stitch or weave,  
hands to cut silk into wishes, our body to breathe. 
For such love to share, the spark to create 
ignites almost everywhere.

We find our way here by moonglow of night sky,
starlight's glittering gems to string.
We hear the music of the heavens, 
and with our angels joyfully sing.

Yes, we must sing, or dance with scarves, or paint,
write, or sew, or beat on drums each day.
The rhythms in the tune, the story, the flower, 
on the canvas, or in the clay.

It is for all of these each time we should strive,
that we call forth our art to bless our lives.
Now standing in our circle, with our hands clasped tight,
thanking God for each other, before slipping back into the   night.