A couple of hours ago
I witnessed a teacher of
art lying upon hard ground
offering water by way
of an eyedropper to a
tiny trembling fledgling and
therein saw the painting of
the vast Universe of Life

A couple of hours ago
I witnessed a teacher of
art seated in a circle
to gift facilitation
by way of meditation
and suggestion to a small
fledgling community and
therein saw grace flow therefrom

Water in the ├ôrgiva Mountains

This quiet house is home
to hearts and souls who will
readily recognise
graced metaphor in a
lesson or two or more
about irrigation

This quiet house affords
shade and warmth and tender
trust and comfort and great
courage and laughter and
depth and healing in her
quiet way of speaking

This quiet house breathes deep
as we dance and sing and
reach with liberated
joy beneath shooting stars
and soft-painted music
and love found here as ours

This quiet house hears the
jasmine in the silent
music who hosts a stave
of notes and scents and the
echoes familiar if
for a space forgotten

This quiet house smiles with
openness and a glad
willingness to be led
by a heart to his heart
where connection is heard
albeit unspoken

This quiet house senses
fragrance in green and in
earthenware and water
and breathes that she and he
are you and me who are
Cortijo Romero