Into The Mystic

This is a book of magical poetry.
That will inspire you and perhaps life some burden off your shoulders.
Come with me on this beautiful dance of words. If you would like to purchase this Ebook and need it in a different format or language we can arrange that for you. Cover design by Ravenscraft Studios. https://payhip.com/b/u56E


It seems the world is filled with words of hate these days…it’s like they’re floating in the air

and we can’t help but bump into them…and hear them everywhere.


It doesn’t matter where we live…in the north, east, west…or south…

Why words of hate are even spewing from our own president’s mouth!


But the moment we think words of hate are winning…that, perhaps, they’ll never end.

Is the moment I say…don’t be fooled!…by words of hate, my friends.


How many times have you said ‘I love you’…to your friends…your family

I’m guessing you have lost count…because you say ‘I love you’ endlessly.


When a friend or relative calls…it can your brighten up your day

It can change your manner and your tone…

and what are the last three words you say to them before hanging up the phone?


If you happen to write a love letter…(Hey, some of us still do!)

You don’t end it with words of hate…you end with P. S. I Love You.


Do not give up on words of love, do not grieve their death, don’t mourn…

Remember ‘I love you’ are the first words spoken after a baby has been born.


And when you stop to think about it…why…do you surmise...
'I love you' are the last words uttered before a person dies?


Could it be we’ve come to understand how words of love endear…

and that is why they are the first and last words we want someone to hear?


Words of hate are not more prevalent than words of love

no, near as I can tell

the big difference is when people use them they tend to scream and yell…


So I say let’s not give up on words of love…

let’s use them even more

with one small modification…


Let’s say them louder than we ever have before!

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Imprisoned Feelings

I've always kept my feelings inside, each one in time was left alone or left behind.

I've always been afraid of an honest feeling ever getting close to being the real thing. Like a lie propped up like a present with a bow and tie only being a promise on the outside.

I've always kept my feelings inside, and pent up fire becomes imprisoned ice, the hotter the flame, the colder the eyes.

I don't know when feelings are supposed to show, I've got someone who loves me. Asking me to let them go. I swear I'm not masking them but the last thing I'd know would be how to let passion in.

As a son to a drunkard father, I never want to touch a bottle. I'm not going to get into all the things he beat on, but I'm calmer.

As a son to a ever distancing mother. My girl asks me why I don't desperately act like we need each other. Affection is not something new to me, on the contrary it was my very first enemy.

Something in me just always screamed get out, climb, and never trust a feeling. Life since has been more then exceptionally good to me, but looking back 35 years on the life I've lived, I realize that I've kept my feelings inside just like that little kid


Author's Notes/Comments: 

I've always found emotions to be self defeating, through life I've either conscientiously or subconsciously tried to reprehend them. This is how I can best explain it through poetry and a small portion of how it's been what you could argue as detramental to my life or maybe it was a defence that kept the world out for the better.

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The heart contains four chambers…each one plays a part

but her mom didn’t call them chambers to her they were spaces in the heart.


She had her own philosophy, her own view…her own way

“I am not a doctor…or a scientist…more of a romantic she would say”.


She believed we were born with spaces in our hearts, spaces that never end

These spaces are easily filled she would say with the love of family and friends..


When her daughter asked what about our love for animals, a sunset, or the morning dew

“Oh yes!”, “her mom would answer there’s a space for them there too”.


“Your heart is always looking for love.” she’d smile…”to create or to restore it

and have no fear once it’s discovered…your heart has a place to store it.”


When she was dying she told her daughter 

“It’s just a new adventure I’m about to start.”

“But mom”, her daughter asked, “what will happen to your space within my heart”.


“Not to worry”, her mom replied, “for in your thoughts I will always be

and that space will now be filled with memories of me.”


At her funeral people spoke fondly of her mother

story after story they related…

about her laughter…about the love she shared

and about the life she had created.


They spoke of her kindness, of her smile

how they’d never seen her mad…

To a person they all spoke of what a big heart she had.


“I can tell you why Mom’s heart was so big”

her daughter said when it came her turn to speak

Then she paused to smile, took a breath

as a tear ran down her cheek.


“It was filled with the love of her family and friends.”

she said as she looked out at all the faces…

“You see here heart not only had four chambers


It had an endless supply of spaces.”

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In the circle of life, if you’re lucky…ripples of love will extend…

forming an ever increasing circle of its own…one even death cannot end:



Before he met her what he knew of love…every understanding he ever had

he gained inside his family…watching his mom and dad.


Thus before he met her he was ready to love…and the older and older he grew

he was confident he would find someone…someone to love…like they do.


Then he met her..and he began to draw on everything about love he once knew

and he whispered when held her…“No one will ever love you like I do.”


They raised a family and what their children learned of love…every understanding they ever had

they gained inside their family…by watching their mom and dad.


And once on their own they were ready to love…for the older and older they grew

they knew they would find someone to love…like their mother and father do.


Then they met their someone and they began to draw on everything about love they once knew

and they whispered as they held them…“No one will ever love you like I do.”


And when one life was about to end

one hand into the other hand slid…

and they whispered softly to each other


“No one ever loved me like you did.”

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A morning stroll along the beach, just the two of us, walking hand in hand

when I found myself enchanted by all the footprints in the sand.


It was beautiful how the sun met the water and the water met the land

but I felt myself mesmerized by all those footprints in the sand.


They came in all shapes and sizes…they were everywhere I scanned…

an endless overlap of footprints…blending together in the sand


I had no way of knowing…if it was a woman or a man

If they were made by someone young or old…these footprints in the sand.


Was their skin black or white or yellow…red, or pink or tanned?

could not be determined from these footprints in the sand.


What was their religion?  Were they from here or some other land?

These I could not ascertain from mere footprints in the sand.


Were they single…or was their partner a woman or a man?

Information not to be discovered from footprints in the sand..


And I wondered if we judged people only by their footprints in the sand

would we still have prejudice and bigotry…

would people still be ridiculed or banned?


Would hatred still flow as easily across our seas and land…

or would we find a way to blend together…


like footprints in the sand?

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She is not an egotistical person…vanity…she has no trace

yet she was lamenting getting older…and all the wrinkles on her face.


Her husband overheard her and decided to intercede

“Come with me for a moment." he said…”I know just the thing you need.”


She took the hand he offered as she’d done a million times before

and they walked hand in hand together until he opened the front door.


Outside the summer morning was cloaked in a misty fog

And though there was no thunder…it was raining cats and dogs


She looked into her husbands eyes…silently urging him to explain

“Take your shoes off.” he smiled…”We’re going barefoot in the rain.”


He ran into the rain…leaving his shoes and socks behind

as she watched him jumping up and down she thought he was losing his mind


But if he’s losing his mind she reasoned then I guess I’ll lose mine too

and out she headed in the rain without her socks or shoes.


They laughed and sang and even danced and when their playing was through

He brought her back to that same mirror and said…”Now let’s take a look at you.”


“I love every wrinkle on your face.” he said in a voice both soothing and kind…

“Because those wrinkles are just remnants of what your smiles left behind.”


“Don’t let your wrinkles get you down, don’t let them worry or annoy.

besides being an indication of your age…their a celebration of your joy”


“I find each wrinkle beautiful…alluring and beguiling.”

Then he kissed her and as he walked away

in the mirror…


she was smiling.

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My grandfather was an artist…through an artist eyes he’d see

when I was five he gave me a portrait…the portrait was of me!


There I was on the canvas…my eyes, my smile…my hair

everything about me…was in the picture…everywhere…


“Thank you! It’s beautiful Grandpa!” I said, “but tell me how can this be

you titled it ‘ONE…UNFINISHED’, but It looks all done to me.”


“Oh, this painting is quite finished,” Grandpa said, “as anyone can see

but you, the subject of the painting, you will never be….”


“So each year I will add a painting…

next year’s will be UNFINISHED…TWO

and when your birthday comes around…

I’ll present it, then, to you.”


“For if there’s one thing I can teach you

One thing I know to be true

it’s that I will never finish being me

and you will never finish being you…”


Grandpa knew what he was talking about…

and he kept his promise too

He gave me 25 UNFINISHED paintings 

before his time was through.


And whenever I look at my paintings today Grandpa

here’s something else I know is true….

you have never finished loving me


and I will never finish loving you…

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It only took a moment…

the feeling hit them fast

they knew not only was this their first love


but it would also be his last.

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