I am purpose
born of two
who have fulfilled me
to theirs.
I am purpose
the child learning, growing
chasing the wind to know it.
I am purpose
the woman heart
weeping and smiling
for what I have lost
for what I have gained.
I am purpose
the mate of Loves fortune,
sharing
exploring the vineyards
of our naked souls.
I am purpose
the mother of promises
kept and broken
to offspring, with glue
mending the pieces;
theirs and mine.
I am purpose
a feathered pen
postulated synchronistically;
rice paper and ink-horn
my gifts of sanity.
I am purpose
an ancient book of musty pages
fraught with knowings
for the wisdom seekers.
I am purpose
one tiny mustard seed
in Gods plantation
growing still, toward my purpose....