A word is a
life lived,
in liberation,
in freedom,
in honesty.
Filed under: 🜂 Other – reflecting on connection, relationships, and the spaces between souls.
Poems on Life, Love, and Truth
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The Tranquil Symphony of Wind
In silence, with closed eyes, I sit,
And let the world around me quit.
I tune my ears to nature’s grace,
To feel the wind in its embrace.The rustling leaves, a gentle sound,
Like whispers from the Earth’s own ground.
Through branches, wind begins to sing,
A symphony, which hearts believe.It’s more than just a passing breeze,
It’s like a magnet,
Drawing me closer to its call,
Like a cosmic force.The wind’s song stretches my mind’s wings,
Unveiling truths that silence reveals.
It touches me deep in my soul,
A melody that makes me whole.In this communion with the air,
I find a peace beyond compare.
A cleansing of the mind and heart,
Where inner worlds and winds dance.Close your eyes, and attend,
To nature’s music.
Let wind’s sweet song your spirit guide,
In its embrace, my dear friend.Filed under: 🜃 Infinite – exploring the unseen forces behind creation, truth, and existence.
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An Invite
The pages turn,
The lessons learned.
Yesterday’s story,
In shadows blurred.Here and now,
A sacred vow.
No echoes of the past,
Only blessings cast.A dance in time,
A rhythm sublime.
Journey to the start,
A compassionate heart.From fractures deep,
New love will seep.
The universe’s art,
Love notes to impart.Whispers below,
Stars’ radiant glow.
Dreams turned real,
Wishes heal.To give is to gain,
A life’s gentle rain.
Gifts we bestow,
A river’s flow.A cycle spins,
Where life begins.
Endings and new,
Horizons in view.Life’s tender touch,
Curiosity as such.
Questions arise,
Truth in our eyes.Vibrations thrum,
Curiosity hum.
A dance of creation,
Life’s grand narration.Meaning or delight,
In the heart’s light.
Faith’s gentle grace,
Lessons we embrace.A journey’s quest,
In choices blessed.
Each path we tread,
A truth ahead.Invisible strings,
Connected beings.
A world anew,
Love pure and true.Beyond the pane,
Open hearts gain.
No need for disguise,
Inviting, open skies.Home’s embrace,
Love’s gentle grace.
A welcome bright,
In shared light.Filed under: 🜁 Self – tracing the inner landscapes of thought, feeling, and becoming.
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A Religion Without God?
Lost in the ligature
between letters of the word,
riding the waves
of the cursive line.Writing is liberation.
Reading is freedom.
Truth is honesty.Stories are home.
A live word lived
honestly as truth,
simply within the blood flow
of the letters cursive veins.
A word is a
life lived,
in liberation,
in freedom,
in honesty.Trading paint colors with the leaves,
stories and folktales with the branches.With time,
the print of the word is stronger,
and is engraved in our will.
Or it is washed away,
and pentimento is pargeted.We die when
we’re forgotten.Calendar create, ritual and elevation.
Community and art,
fragile and vulnerable.
The ordinary is remarkable.
Words repeat.Amen
Filed under: 🜁 Self – tracing the inner landscapes of thought, feeling, and becoming.
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What Is Peace?
Peace is love in silence.
Filed under: 🜁 Self – tracing the inner landscapes of thought, feeling, and becoming.
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Love And Truth
Love reveals the truth
.
.
.
Filed under: 🜁 Self – tracing the inner landscapes of thought, feeling, and becoming.
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A Live Word
Writing is liberation.
Reading is freedom.
Truth is honesty.Filed under: 🜁 Self – tracing the inner landscapes of thought, feeling, and becoming.
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Footprints Erased
Memories like candles.
They burn,
cry hot wax tears,
then leave a monument.
All while shining a light,
on what you choose
and how you choose,
to see.I can count many tales
on my hand,
and many wounds
on my arms.
I lay every night
on a pillow
of flame and tears.I drown inside my head and
break into pieces of kintsugi
inside my heart.I try to explain,
but no one listens.
Born mute,
learned to speak.
Born different,
learned to fit in.
Born to be me,
and I learned to be you.
I can explain,
But who’s listening?Wrongly labeled
and wrongly judged.
Back of a hand on lips.
A sword cuts through my lungs.
Thoughts hanged.
Innocence raped.
Natural gifts shot.
And all buried.
No ceremony,
and no farewell.
No time to grieve,
and no time to adapt.
I’m ok.Here’s a mask,
put it on.
I am told.
You are sin.
Yes I am sin.
Hide your soul.I can count many tales
on my hand.
I rest my head,
on pillow of fire.
And I drown
in the waters of my thoughts.
I love,
and I hurt.Forgive me.
Footprints erased.Filed under: 🜁 Self – tracing the inner landscapes of thought, feeling, and becoming.
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I Hear Your Voice
I hear your voice,
I see your impressions,
Around for thousands of years.The older you are,
The less individual freedom
You allow.As time passes,
More freedom is bought,
By collective few.You dim your light,
You work to buy
Ignorance as truth.Don’t you worry,
You do what you want,
What you want.The only truth to follow,
Is the one in our own darkness
That shines.The seed grows in darkness
Travels the path
Towards light.It stands tall,
Shines bright,
Gives more than it takes.Allows freedoms of all
As a natural life
Worth living.Some get rewarded
Filed under: 🜂 Other – reflecting on connection, relationships, and the spaces between souls.
