Life. . .

Guide Me

Take my hand and place it gently on your heart. I want to feel the Soul responsible for your very existence.

Place my hand slowly onto your chest. I want to hear the music of your spiritual engine.

With your two hands, take my face and place it clearly in front of yours. I want to see the way your eyes look genuinely at all of life.

Lend me your fingers; place them directly over mine, palm to palm and let me touch deep into your shadow. Let us momentarily be as one. I promise to retract leaving nothing disturbed.

Let me just this once into your life wholly, completely. I am awed by the intensity of power that surges through you. A road yet to be traveled in my lifetime.

Take your untroubled mind and project the radiance of light that is carried within you, around you onto mine, as if it were a movie screen.

Share with me your secret of devoted vitality; the way your spirit flies without wings, the way your heart sings with no voice and light radiates without force.

With my body, show me how to love unconditionally all that life is composed of, through dance, my feet never touching the earth, through the laughter your soul disperses without making a sound, through a song without words the way your heart does. Through love that spreads rapidly like fire, as though I were a neighboring tree.

Take my hand, place it gently on your heart. I want to caress it, and give back some of the essence, its vital forces have shared with me, through poetry recited so beautifully, soulfully, by a heart only so pure so dedicated as yours.

This precious child has been placed in your arms by someone who loves him. He is a gift from God. She cannot afford the clothes to keep him warm or the bottles to feed him, but she loves him just the same.

She asks that you cuddle him, kiss him and rock him to sleep. Feed and love him and make time to play, filling his heart with memories of a happy childhood.

He is your child now, but still, it is her blood that runs through his veins.

It feels as though she has given her whole world to you in that tiny blue blanket.

He is not a toy, nor is he an object to take life’s frustrations out on. Never should his little body be battered or beaten.

He is a child, a precious little child, with sparkling blue eyes that see you as his mother.

He trusts you as though it were you who had given birth to him; you must never betray him.

She asks you to love him as if it were your womb that carried him. This child is one hundred percent love, "I know this" she states, " because I gave all that was in me to this child for the nine months that his heart beat with mine. If you take without giving you will break his spirit, and my heart. If you love and understand him, he’ll be all that money can’t buy. He’ll be love from head to toe and smiles from ear to ear, and you will reap the rewards, he is a reflection of you. Please be a Mommy to him, as he is now your son."