soul

Intire

Folder: 
Nature / Folder 1

 

◆◆◆◆

 

...Because my love,

What is life, but love in motion?

A constant churning,

A burning,

A sometimes seemingly

Facetious

 ◆

Cycle 

Of

 ◆

Pain,

Joy,

Disappointments,

Confusion,

Struggle,

Hope,

Appreciation,

Breath and yes,

Death mixed in

 ◆

From the very day we are born,

Leaving its mark deepest

On some moments we are feeling forgotten, 

Forlorn,

And with eyes open to this we can rejoice,

In knowing that even our very death

Is our own choice.

 ◆

Take my body if you will,

But our souls, my love,

Belong unto only each savior's will,

Some in the hands of devils,

Others' in a  wading pond unclaimed,

Mine belongs to love,

Without blame,

 

Without shame.



Copyright 2013


★♥★

Author's Notes/Comments: 
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We rise, we rest.

We are partners.
Paired - but not out of need.
Attracted - but not out of fear.
Complete - in our individual wholeness.


The calm we feel
is only equal to our passion
for ourselves, our life and the thirst for more.


We give
to ourselves what we need,
to our partners what we want,
and to the world around us
love to heal.


We are not perfect
but we don't expect ourselves,
our partner,
to be.


We are merely
grateful,
trusting,
and powerful
in our commitment
first to god
then self
then each other.


For us
that is the only way.


We rest calmly
in the glow of our own godliness
our own frailty
and our own compassions.
What a glorious light
we have.

Underwater Trying Not To Drown

Sorrow filling my lungs

Choking on the tears

Crushing my heart

But I’ve never felt so alive

Underwater Trying Not To Drown

Cinders to ash, ash to smoke

My soul caught on the breeze

And left this empty corpse behind

Far behind and not looking back

 

Why can’t we go back to who we once were?

One Small Step

I raise my hands

I give up

Finally death overwhelms my soul

Ashes to ashes

To earth we return

To the embrace of home

And I am going home

But death is just the beginning

A small step to a greater journey

So don’t mourn my passing

Don’t cry

But laugh hysterically

Shout till your lungs burst

Because I’m waiting for you

I’m waiting for you to catch up

Because you are a step behind

 

And we’ll love again when you come here

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Beauty

Beauty


What is beauty? What is beauty?


it matters not outside


What is beauty? What is beauty?


is it not inside?



Love is beauty. Love is beauty


It should come from within


Love is beauty. Love is beauty


Please, do let it in



Love is beauty. Love is beauty


it's a precious gift to us


Love is beauty. Love is beauty


 

do not waste it thus

Beauty

Beauty


What is beauty? What is beauty?


it matters not outside


What is beauty? What is beauty?


is it not inside?



Love is beauty. Love is beauty


It should come from within


Love is beauty. Love is beauty


Please, do let it in



Love is beauty. Love is beauty


it's a precious gift to us


Love is beauty. Love is beauty


 

do not waste it thus

The Mission Beyond

 

 

..........

 

(photo from lightworkers.org)

 

 

he feels dejected,

grim, down-in-the-mouth,

mirthless, mournful, 

moody and droopy,

dragged, trite,

and nothing is right, 

anguished, forlorn,

woeful in the depths of despair.

 

he tries to think 

of sweetest memories,

but as he casts his 

grappling hook to 

secure his ascent

over the walls he's built,

the rope becomes 

frayed and breaks.

 

the weight of his 

guilt has grown too 

ponderous, and his

spine too soft to

bear the rigors 

of the climb that he

now sees he must 

journey on his own.

 

sinking deeper into

his abyss he struggles 

to remember something 

other than this limbo

of darkness and dread,

the disbelief of this reality

he fails again and again

to overcome, and desperation sets in.

 

clinging to old feelings,

and the desire for a love 

long gone, he withers

in a sea of hopelessness,

and every good memory

takes him back to the 

bottom of this wallowing 

pit of sorrow and pain.

 

people pass by,

some with compassionate

flurries of empathy

that quickly ferment to feed 

the destruction of any 

aspirations for change,

and the nature of his misery

flourishes unto his bitter end.

 

he thought she was his world,

and now she's gone,

moved on to another dimension

on the wings of a dove,

to blaze new trails without him,

but his mind cannot accept

that was the whole purpose of 

their meeting in this life.

 

she came to prepare him

for this dark night of the soul,

and his task is to overcome it,

he listens for her voice

to soothe him as it did before,

and the scorching fires of 

truth that strip his soul naked

have left him angry and inflexible.

 

and when he sleeps, 

she watches 

through timeless portals,

the man she left behind, 

and wonders 

if he'll ever pass

the test 

of this lifetime.

 

he doesn't seem 

to understand her whispers in the dark,

he only understands the love they had so long ago,

he's trapped in something 

only he can bring unto an end,

or wander in his denial, his heart never to mend,

for unbeknownst to him this lifetime is his only chance

for them to ever have another lifetime in this dance.

 

 

11:41 PM 8/7/2013  ©

 

..............

The river

am I nothing but broken bones? is this beating heart nothing but a burden to myself & everyone I meet..?
as I walk through this valley alone..

the shadows become something i've well known.
your eyes, they magnetize.. the fear in my soul is screaming out "lies!"
where should I try to hide..?

the clouds hang above, as the river i'm crossing over continues to flow..
if I were to fall, would anyone ever know? slipping away from it all, even myself..
glancing at these hands, I wonder what would be different if I was somebody else..

 

this forest goes farther than the birds & the trees..
this grass grows taller than below our knees..
my fate is an open wound.. bleeding.. bruised.. cut & used..
where am I going..? what am I to do..?
too many questions within me.. are we all our own worst enemy..?
on the top of this hill, the sunrise & fall reminds me of Gods undying love..
every memory that follows behind is purpose-less..
how could you think you know me better than I know myself?
every word you spew is worthless..

 

dreams are like looking through stained glass..

all different shapes, colors, hues..
why would you want to watch them shatter.. how could it not matter!?
one thing to remember.. don't give your love away, for the sake of saving someone else...

 

path after path, turn upon turn.. we struggle, maybe learn..
I stare into space & wait.. for something, i'll never know exactly what...
ashes have become of these fantasies..
careful not to let the blood of the past stain what is of my today..
dancing around the casualties.. murder my misery.

 

shed a tear for everything that used to be & let it all blow far over me.
if only we could all perfectly mend these wounds..
fragilties of life, scars of death..
the last time you close your eyes... that very last breath..

 

black night sky with stars so electric..
fragrant & soothing, my boat keeps moving..
row, row, drift away..
feet in the dirt but i'm being pulled astray..
the current so strong & winds full force.
the ocean is taking it's course..

 

beneath the misty swamp, stirs disarray..
where Satan's children go to play..
one by one, two by two.. sinking to the bottom.
he's a theif, can't you tell..?
reeking of that evil smell..
naive indeed as you let him feed..
you act as if life has turned you to this bad seed..
fool, you did it to yourself...
why blame someone else?

 

& finally I jump in the river to drown..
reaching out for my savior, not because i'm in danger..
I need to be taken from this earth.. I smile because i'm hurt...
when my feet hit the river floor, i'll close my eyes, & open the doors..
a light shone through, my hope for God was true...
I embrace... soon free... this body was never me.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

7.26-7.27- 2013.

The Other Side

 

 

 

............

 

 

pick up a pen, but why?

 

a subtle urge moves you,

 

words once trapped in darkness, scramble,

 

grappling and stirring around inside your head,

 

lying in your chest, bubbling and churning 

 

like a slow moving vortex of something,

 

but you don't know what it is,

 

and you write,

 

the words flow out like nothing before.

 

you are not a writer, why?

 

the days have been moving by slowly,

 

you chalked it up to exterior things...life, outlying changes,

 

and it feels good to put the pen down,

 

but a strange elusive spirit captures your attention,

 

and you write

 

and you write

 

and you can not stop, as you learn the other side 

 

to life,

 

to love,

 

to people,

 

to the side you were never told of.

 

 

11:23 AM 7/21/2013 ©

 

 

 

.................

Author's Notes/Comments: 

a poem about writing.

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