Here is a poem I wrote . . .

Writers write. I am currently working (again) on my murder mystery (in between writing angel messages and angel lessons. The murder mystery is called, A Work of . . . Art? It is quite nice. What do you love to do? What fulfills you and brings you joy? Do you make time for what brings you joy? Here is the poem.
THE FULL MOON SHINING TONIGHT IS CERTAINLY ESSENTIAL
I am growing my hair
down to the tips of my sequined slippers
flowing like a river down my back
I am no longer cutting my hair
only the nonessentials
from my life
leaving only what is essential
to my heart . . .

I am growing my hair
in rivulets over my shoulders
hair so long and silken men lose themselves in it
while monks walking the eightfold path
shave theirs

I am cutting only what is nonessential
from my life

I shall not cut luxuries, honey, or bees,
books, baskets woven by Native American types,
seafoam, earthworms, or Sumo wrestlers

I shall not cut
hypothetical quarks and their sisters
dependent upon the eightfold way
for their strange and wondrous existence

I declare now and forever more that all
that is essential to my heart
is essential to the world

I make myself Queen of Hearts
and declare I shall not cut the arts
only war and poverty, suffering and misery,
guns, ammunition, daggers, and false confessions
all of these will be cut
along with lies, deceit, false pretenses, any pretenses

Last but not least only words of light
shall remain.

I will cut all languages of darkness
till only the voices of angels remain
angels with tresses like spun gold,
spun silver, spun cotton candy
pink, orange, and neon yellow

Whirling dervishes
spinning into ecstasy
shall not be cut

I shall grow my hair until I am a woman old enough
to weave it into snowdrifts where I will wait out
the storm of life
and let tears of sweet joy slide down
the lines of my face

for all that is not essential to my life
has been cut away

and I will slip like a newborn
into the womb from which I shall be reborn
upon the new horizon
that some call heaven
and I call cutting everything and leaving only
what is essential to my heart.

©Judith Ann Parsons aka Indira 2013 All Rights Reserved