My heart is a beautiful white swan; The ugly duckling is gone.

My soul is from elsewhere, I'm sure of that, and I intend to end up there.

Dazzling, turning, beguiling - I fly.

When our spirits merge, there will be nothing left.

Plague the creative, daring person who puts it out on the line, quickly wondering and wanting to be liked, yet showing not of that matter.

Morning after morning, I come back, to clear out the clutter, and to provoke freedom, creativity and forward motion.

Your story is the story of all of us. As you reveal the stitching of your sewn-on fingertip, the welding of your elbow, the pins in your knee that makes it bend, you free us all.

I'm auburn aligned. It is imprinted upon my soul. They have each left their gingerprints across my heart and mind.

And on each of the myriad leaves a thousand sparkling raindrops, and you.

Sit down at dusk, and close your eyes to find the dawn. Wide open to the world, awakening.

We need only open the door.

To Affect Peace is to let go of the chaos. To reside in Stillness...

I wanna know, so please release, your heart's lyrical songs, melodies & passions, tell me who you are, what moves you and rocks your realm.

If we leap…will we sprout wings? I don’t know. Do you want to find out?

We are insufferable creatures, creating war, ripping up the roots that took hold before we were born.

With the harness in my hand, The three faced horse disobeys me. It runs away dragging me with it.

Indignant and rebellious, we take to the road.

How can I forget that I love you.

"wake up, the world's on fire!"

"The beginning of love is the will to let those we love be perfectly themselves, the resolution not to twist them to fit our own image."

These are the days I can't take much more.

A stillness descends...

Take off the gray veil that has blinded you from experiencing the world around you in the most profound way. Explore your abilities and if you persist, one day you will find what you're good at, you will find what you love to do. And once you do, you will never stop creating through it. It will be your soul's purpose.

WE LOVED, and the closest we've come to explaining why, is because it was you, and because it was I.

So, life’s incessant motion, - Like squirrel, flits, forth and back - In stark and obvious contrast - Against your bird of black.

  By Crystal Lagace. When the ache is so strong it feels as though thoughts are shredding a path from heart to brain, tearing through delicate nerve endings – and beginnings – that signal shivers of soul tears and blood leaking from fingertips, itching to express intensity… you may be a writer.   When love has the power to tingle toes and ignite flaming desires that engulf all reason in – and out – secret spaces speaking volumes in that trusting silence and embracing unknown certainties that scream to follow bliss in the supremacy of words… you might be a writer.   If the sidewalk imprint of a decomposing fallen leaf can create an overwhelming tightness in a pounding chest, you may be.   If the choral harmony of flocking birds has the audacity to make your spirit soar alongside their flapping wings with a...

The world lacks a certain amount of creativity.

And in the space, Where my heart should be.

she reflected upon herself & creation and smiled in the bliss of being

I forgive myself. I forgive you and everything in the past, present or future. I want to be free. I can only be free. I know nothing or no one else, I can only be me.

We fear that we feel too much and shutter away our illuminations to be shone again upon the next rising.

Choose the boldest course, the one that frightens you the most. It will change your life.

Each illness he contracts – a head cold, a stomach bug, even a fucking paper cut – brings me a strange sort of sickness.

We share the same pain and loss. We struggle with our bodies, our desires, and our fears.

moment by moment we become a new we shaped and annealed in pure alchemy to be

We begin With enough time...

I never gave away your sacred words of powerstriking the burning upper lip of shackled-in difference.

It is the moon, this moon that rebukes the night for allowing us to believe that there is nothing left to learn.

Wake up, life remains. Wake up, rain comes to feed the soil and soul.

Between living and dreaming there is the third thing: being.

from polarity she integrates the differentials into fused being

I will still give a piece of my soul to the world each day. Without hesitation. The universe does not smile on hesitation, I’ve heard it said. And, I never know if today might be the last chance I have for giving.

They slip away more every day.

The sin that permeates you - Makes you disappear - Makes you swallow, choke, gasp - Makes you drown and die of fear - Close your heart - Hide away

I have many emotions dripping from me like Salvador Dali's elements, and I feel like they are about to burst forth and I can't hold them in. And what do I do? I choose a canvas that is fleeting enough so that I can instantly forget why I exploded in the first place. And my canvas is called laughter. By laughter, I am an artist.

beyond tidal flows, on the crest of waves, propelled beyond comfort, ejected into the vast unknown ...

So I put on my cape, you know the one. - The one with the pretty frills that was made from God's steal. - I looked into the mirror and said - I am not afraid but show me a sign!

I named you Lilliana, I crowned you the Queen.

Voltaire called poetry “the music of the soul, and, above all, of great and feeling souls.” I believe that if we excavate deeply inside ourselves, we all eventually hit poetry’s treasure chest.

These dreams find me; they dig deep, hurling visions in the night, grasping, pushing, shoving my reality, blasting all the rubble of yesterday’s undoings