Who knows where life leads us.
Who knows what happens at the end of our flicker on Earth. I believe there is another life awaiting us at the end of the current one... However am I conditioned by traditional Christian beliefs to think that?
Who knows.
I embrace sleep- but the world keeps turning. I embrace love, but the days keep passing. What is purpose?
Honestly- some say its to impact another... But it's just a vicious cycle of living to die.
The person we impact will die... We will die... The world will eventually die.
Unless some magic potion is discovered.
I'm dreary.
Eyes heavy.
To dream of the future... Life after death. Sweet nightmares dressed in lace greet me at the sight of the moon
Friday, March 20, 2015
Thursday, March 12, 2015
Airplane Thoughts
It's amazing what a little bit of sunshine can do to a person.
Moods change, colors change, emotions take flight in the most positive of ways... It's a miracle really. I've spent years in darkness- searching for eternal sunshine. Now, I'd be lying if I said I've discovered some hidden light, or some incredible instant cure for our darkest moments, but I am however on a journey.
A journey of increasing light, increasing love and increasing newfound peace.
It all starts within oneself. A flicker of a flame is light enough to lead you towards a brighter light at the end of a tunnel.
Demons may try to waver that flame, and they may be successful in blowing it out, but we are are capable of creating a fire within.
Once you reach the end of the damp, dark and desolate tunnel, you see light- even on the cloudiest of days. At first, its the brightest light you've seen, even blinding behind clouds and rain, yet you are happy.
As the days pass you are blessed with the warmth of the sun, and the dancing of wild rain on your body and ground around you. This rain is the key to life. She feeds the hungry plants, waters the thirsty souls, cleanses our bodies when dingy and dusty... This rain, she keeps us alive. Before we know it we resent her, we find comfort in being dry, comfort in sunshine, and comfort in clear skies... But we forget how the rain gives us life. We beg her to leave, complain about her presence, but she still gives while we wish her away.
We should find happiness in even the most dim light, the light of the moon or even the light that sneaks through the clouds enough to give us sight. We should dance in the rain, and thank her for her generosity - we should embrace each leg of this Journey we call Life. Because if we don't find the faintest light, even in the cold, wet and dark days- we will forever be stricken with sadness and angst. Mother nature blesses us with change, because without change there would be no appreciation, and without appreciation there would be no room for journeys like ours
Moods change, colors change, emotions take flight in the most positive of ways... It's a miracle really. I've spent years in darkness- searching for eternal sunshine. Now, I'd be lying if I said I've discovered some hidden light, or some incredible instant cure for our darkest moments, but I am however on a journey.
A journey of increasing light, increasing love and increasing newfound peace.
It all starts within oneself. A flicker of a flame is light enough to lead you towards a brighter light at the end of a tunnel.
Demons may try to waver that flame, and they may be successful in blowing it out, but we are are capable of creating a fire within.
Once you reach the end of the damp, dark and desolate tunnel, you see light- even on the cloudiest of days. At first, its the brightest light you've seen, even blinding behind clouds and rain, yet you are happy.
As the days pass you are blessed with the warmth of the sun, and the dancing of wild rain on your body and ground around you. This rain is the key to life. She feeds the hungry plants, waters the thirsty souls, cleanses our bodies when dingy and dusty... This rain, she keeps us alive. Before we know it we resent her, we find comfort in being dry, comfort in sunshine, and comfort in clear skies... But we forget how the rain gives us life. We beg her to leave, complain about her presence, but she still gives while we wish her away.
We should find happiness in even the most dim light, the light of the moon or even the light that sneaks through the clouds enough to give us sight. We should dance in the rain, and thank her for her generosity - we should embrace each leg of this Journey we call Life. Because if we don't find the faintest light, even in the cold, wet and dark days- we will forever be stricken with sadness and angst. Mother nature blesses us with change, because without change there would be no appreciation, and without appreciation there would be no room for journeys like ours
Tuesday, February 17, 2015
Strange-Her
Stranger you were than I remember,
You voice was distant through the airwaves.
Stranger you were from before- or maybe this is you, the Real You.
Stranger became my memory, cloudy, but clear as day.
You tossed me into emissions and recollections of the Dharma and Karma that I used to avidly study.
Stranger and more distant your face became, as you whispered things that were stranger than most.
Stranger was the breathing of your soul- shallow, hollow, dense, and thick.
You became further and lost in a brainwash of falsities... or so I thought.
Stranger was the apology that I received today, from a long lost and ever searching soul-
That thought she was found.
Stranger was the peace, joy and love she wished me through the miles...
Why did I find this so strange?
Stranger was how I felt, how you felt, and how the awkward silence and pauses became;
For we were lost, and hesitant in our memories of qualms and foes.
Stranger you became,
And Stranger I was left-
At the thought, that you my dear, were merely a
Stranger.
You voice was distant through the airwaves.
Stranger you were from before- or maybe this is you, the Real You.
Stranger became my memory, cloudy, but clear as day.
You tossed me into emissions and recollections of the Dharma and Karma that I used to avidly study.
Stranger and more distant your face became, as you whispered things that were stranger than most.
Stranger was the breathing of your soul- shallow, hollow, dense, and thick.
You became further and lost in a brainwash of falsities... or so I thought.
Stranger was the apology that I received today, from a long lost and ever searching soul-
That thought she was found.
Stranger was the peace, joy and love she wished me through the miles...
Why did I find this so strange?
Stranger was how I felt, how you felt, and how the awkward silence and pauses became;
For we were lost, and hesitant in our memories of qualms and foes.
Stranger you became,
And Stranger I was left-
At the thought, that you my dear, were merely a
Stranger.
Friday, January 30, 2015
Dawn
Creatures eat their sleep in the night,
They are full, yet deprived.
Hungry, and tired.
They ingest a poison, that swims, and dances through their veins.
The stars gaze upon their weary souls
Whispering promises from memories,
That feel so real once eyes are shut tight.
Ghosts dance, in the night
Familiar of a sinful taste.
Their bodies are fluid to the string songs of the cemetery.
Beauty dies in the dawn.
They are full, yet deprived.
Hungry, and tired.
They ingest a poison, that swims, and dances through their veins.
The stars gaze upon their weary souls
Whispering promises from memories,
That feel so real once eyes are shut tight.
Ghosts dance, in the night
Familiar of a sinful taste.
Their bodies are fluid to the string songs of the cemetery.
Beauty dies in the dawn.
Thursday, January 29, 2015
She Hurries.
How the summer breeze
Captures her hair
She is longing for belonging
The wind, the sun, the warmth.
She dives into the questionable unknown.
She dreams.
She induces dreaming.
She cleverly drops endeavors, for acceptance for months.
And then hurries to gather them up.
She hurries.
Captures her hair
She is longing for belonging
The wind, the sun, the warmth.
She dives into the questionable unknown.
She dreams.
She induces dreaming.
She cleverly drops endeavors, for acceptance for months.
And then hurries to gather them up.
She hurries.
Return of Ana
Day one
She started again,
Ana was beautiful, and a long lost friend.
She stood right behind her,
They looked in the mirror
Perfection was far, and that was overtly clear.
So Ana had whispered,
"Don't worry my child,
I know that you've been,
quite lost for a while.
We will work, and remind ourselves
what perfection is...
but it starts right now, get onto your knees.
Beg for forgiveness for treating me wrong,
let your eyes grow glassy to the tune of my song."
She wept and she went to count all the divots,
The dips and the curves, and the disgustingly noticeable
Imperfections.
She started again,
Ana was beautiful, and a long lost friend.
She stood right behind her,
They looked in the mirror
Perfection was far, and that was overtly clear.
So Ana had whispered,
"Don't worry my child,
I know that you've been,
quite lost for a while.
We will work, and remind ourselves
what perfection is...
but it starts right now, get onto your knees.
Beg for forgiveness for treating me wrong,
let your eyes grow glassy to the tune of my song."
She wept and she went to count all the divots,
The dips and the curves, and the disgustingly noticeable
Imperfections.
Ghostly Friends
It was dark and her soul was tinted
With a hue of light
She dug deep, and she opened her mind.
A lost little girl, stuck in a realm of dying time.
She pulled and prodded until her thoughts came to light,
She was beautifully tainted - I would claim her anew.
Her memories and thoughts, she tried to sort through.
She spoke to the woman with straggled blonde hair,
As if she was really, in the room,
Right there.
She was a mirage, that only the little girl saw
She was beautiful, yet deadly, and
Invisible to all.
The girl knew her past, but was trying to piece,
the words of the ghost,
That haunted her, in her sleep.
She captured a "B" and a mother's dear touch,
She asked the pale woman, to hint more than dust.
The woman, her eyes, were light, and she, thin.
Her death was provoked, by an unthinkable sin.
She cried, and she whispered,
"He attacked me in bed,"
And that is how Brenda,
Ended up Dead.
I was that girl, that listened patiently
I still speak to her, as if it were me
Because once I'm gone, I'll feel so alone
So Brenda to me is a friend, of my own.
I don't know what happened, or how she died that night.
But the man that had killed her, is far from the light.
I'll find out more,
To fill her story in
But until then,
We will remain, ghostly friends.
With a hue of light
She dug deep, and she opened her mind.
A lost little girl, stuck in a realm of dying time.
She pulled and prodded until her thoughts came to light,
She was beautifully tainted - I would claim her anew.
Her memories and thoughts, she tried to sort through.
She spoke to the woman with straggled blonde hair,
As if she was really, in the room,
Right there.
She was a mirage, that only the little girl saw
She was beautiful, yet deadly, and
Invisible to all.
The girl knew her past, but was trying to piece,
the words of the ghost,
That haunted her, in her sleep.
She captured a "B" and a mother's dear touch,
She asked the pale woman, to hint more than dust.
The woman, her eyes, were light, and she, thin.
Her death was provoked, by an unthinkable sin.
She cried, and she whispered,
"He attacked me in bed,"
And that is how Brenda,
Ended up Dead.
I was that girl, that listened patiently
I still speak to her, as if it were me
Because once I'm gone, I'll feel so alone
So Brenda to me is a friend, of my own.
I don't know what happened, or how she died that night.
But the man that had killed her, is far from the light.
I'll find out more,
To fill her story in
But until then,
We will remain, ghostly friends.
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