There’s a space before thought where your truth lives,
An echo of all you will know.
For all of the routes you have taken
And all of those still yet to go.
A doorway unlocked yet so sturdy,
It keeps all dark fears tucked away.
With nothing but knowing behind it,
And nothing to bring , wear or pay.
Our instinct is kept here, it pulses,
Alive and responding like breath.
An entity deep down inside us,
Without which our wisdom has left.
To listen and hear your own instinct,
In matters of life or of love .
Will cut out so much of the heartbreak,
Like sliding a hand in a glove.
We use words in so many places,
Bombarded as soon as we wake.
Our minds try to soothe any traces,
That worrying voices can make.
In listening beyond all the chatter,
To knowing the language inside.
Your instincts will push to the surface,
And pull surplus noise like a tide.
Temptation to hold onto hearsay
To believe what you have overheard
Will disregard all your true knowing
A nameless pure truth speaks no word
Use words for only the good things,
Use them in rich honest ways .
Leave space for breathing and laughing,
Reading on warm summer days .
Telling another how vital,
Their smile, thoughts and words are to you,
Sharing a poem or story,
Making a child’s hero true.
Instinct will guide your word’s purpose,
No matter how quiet your voice.
Remember to speak, hear or capture,
Each word is your soul’s precious choice.
There are no words for the fabulousness of our artists. With love,
Sea Sparkle and Liz at the Beach Hut