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I feel like the hush of a whisper, gently blowing in the wind;
I am the warmth and light of sunshine softly caressing your skin;
I have the touch of bubbles, kissess, silk and french lace,
Brushing ever so gently upon your sweet face.

I am a cool mist alikend to a newborn baby’s breath -
softly blowing against your ears
I am the cup that catches your blood to endless depths
It is I who eases your silent fears;

I am a fountain of knowledge and wisdom; . .
I am with you from beginning till end
I am a blissfull vase full of mystery and wonderment
I am strong, yet I easily bend

I have the essense of the morning’s first dew
Like the spring’s first warm rain
It is I to whom the birds first sing at the break of dawn
I’m the mystery of midnight - yet I am not vain.

I watch over you in your travels
and pray wishes of wellness many times
You feel my sweet presense along your journey
Even through eternal space and time . . .

I bring laughter and happiness to you often
I can warm your heart with a smile
I have the fragrant alure of morning’s sweet honysicle
Come sat by my side for a while . . .

I often sat back and watch you in wonderment
Always loving througout the ages
But the essense of my real beauty
Lies in the joy in the children’s faces

I taste like sweet cotton candy dipped in lemon juice
My eyes were created to reflect peace and seduce . .
I’m easily chilled like snow flakes on the last rose of summer;
I’m remnescent of the last vision seen before slumber.

I am a colorful mozaic of joys and sorrows.
My tears help cool my soul.
The essense of serenity lies in my powers.
My true powers are yet to unfold;

I can radiate the coolness of a kiss on a foggy windowpane.
Or be as sensual as a shallow warm summer’s wave
Although I’m the ultimate protector -less I go insane,
It is I that you feel you must forever save!

I am happiness, sadness; rolled up into one
My presense is such - I’m all but I’m none

I am like the vision of a rainbow
Reflecting rays of color on a transluscent sea
I’m a trusted comfortor and nurturer;
Your humble beginnings were born within me.

I dance with the rythem of leaves blown at the first sight of fall
Sometime I do tumble, at times I might fall
Yet, I am the will of the powerless, the strength of the man
I’m God’s beautiful miracle . .
I am . . .    

The Spirit of a Woman.

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Conscious Provoking Souls

The Key to Life



Photo Courtesy of Brittlestar

Nia had been prepared to inherit the wise woman's book. The old woman was the salvation and the backbone of the entire villiage. She was wise. She was loved. But she had become too old to carry out her duties. In return for twenty-two years of training, Nia was to inherit the old woman's key to life. The ceremony was long. The people were many. The responsibility was great. Nea was prepared. She was eager to get started. She believed the book would reveal the answers to all of life's questions. It required two strong men to carry the book to her chamber. When they placed it on her table, she quickly waved them away. The book was solid gold, trimmed with emeralds, rubies and sapphires. In the middle of the front cover sat a seven-carat diamond. Nia's heart was pounding. Her mouth had gone dry. With her eyes closed, she fondled the cover of the book. The time had come to open it. She was about to learn life's secret. She opened the middle of the book. She looked down at the page. Nia had inherited a book of mirrors.

From, Acts of Faith, Iyanla Vanzant

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