Wildflower

Excited to present a new spring project of mine. Welcoming new beginnings, let us start fresh with inspiration, heart and a spirit wild. ~Nicoletta

So much love and gratitude to my sister Alexandra for filming & editing.

Follow her @pricklypeartravel.wordpress.com

Face of the Sun

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I felt her roots firmly ground me,

Morning dew

Washing the pain away.

She shied her power

With a humble smile at the Sun.

 

The light on her face

Healing forests afar,

A single seed of hers

Greeting seven generations to come.

 

© Nicoletta

 

If this poem had a voice, this is what it would sing…

 

 

Photo by @hellenmangseth: Norway

follow her on Instagram

What is Love?

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What is love?

With these three words

She walked with pride

The rising sun in full blossom.

 

What is love?

She boldly asked

In full concentration.

Can I feel it?

Or taste it, even touch it?

She wondered

Tilting her head on the splashing auburn sky

For response.

 

Can I be it?

Her eyes reflected the vibrancy of dawn

The innocence of youth

Played with her thoughts

Dizzying her mind

With sweet puzzling questions.

 

What is love?

She looked up

To the infinite horizons

With a faint sigh.

 

owl

© Nicoletta

If this poem had a voice, this is what it would sing…

 

 

Photo by ©Charles Newton Price

Song: Oliver Shanti- Bodhisattva child

Perfect Symmetry

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Silk is their touch
Heavenly is their smell
From Brazilian jungles
To vibrant meadows
May they dwell.
Intensifying the meaning of Beauty
As they glide and glisten liberally
Like mystical fairies,
Peeping out of green vegetation
Expressing their artistry openly.
As they are serene and peaceful,
Intruders seek and find
The fairy lands where they grow.
With every footstep,
The delicate beings tremble as they know
Once they are touched by stranger’s hands
Off to a distant land they will go.
Placed in dull, lifeless pots
Filled with fruitless soil
Their fragile hearts fracture.
Fiery with nostalgia,
Their mesmerizing glow rapidly raptures.
Overpowered and weakened by greed
Their pure souls can no longer breathe.
Their precious petals fall to the ground
Leaving Beauty alone, without a sound.
Lost is their delicate touch,
Lost is their wondrous smell.
Beauty hides, widowed in black
Her fair partner fallen from grace
Once a displaced model,
Exposing perfect symmetry
For the sake of the human race.

© Nicoletta

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