July 5, 2015
Old souls enter my life like the gentlest of a summer breeze stirring love in my heart and wisdom in my mind.
Compared to their blooming fragrance,
I am but a bud.
As I continually strive for growth, I attempt to emulate them, for they open new doors to the possibility of being.
Teaching me with their quiet ways. . .
like a nudge from God.
Sometimes I wonder, who would I be if my soul suddenly awoke to all it’s potential?
Who would I be if I were an old soul?
At times I’ve had glimpses, but it fades. With me, there is an ebb and flow to my potential attached to the drama of life.
Old souls do not ebb; they only flow. . .
flow with love. . .
always with love. . .
for that is our core. Underneath all of the drama, at the core of each one of us, lies love.
The birds have their song. . .
the flowers have their bloom. . .
We have our love.
‘But the greatest of these is love.’