Hope, Lethe, And The Angels Of Sleep. {poetry}
Come as you are, and meet me there, where hope flowers,
We can love and bloom forever,
We can love and make it through together.
Browsing Tag:
beauty
Rumi, Jake Sully, And A Starry, Starry Night.
Thinking of those no longer around, how I wish to speak with them now, standing on my balcony, the sun shining magnificently, so utterly lovely for winter. The birds share their songs, selflessly. The trees readying themselves with fresh buds and herbs starting to grow.
Creativity Is A Celebration Of Who You Are.
I later learned that editing is not insulting, but the mark of a perseverant artist. But knowing that I treasured my own first drafts really mimics how I feel about myself as a person.
The Stillness Of This Precious Night.
My deer have been here. I spy their tracks at the foot of the balcony. I missed them this evening. Oftentimes I catch them quietly by the edge of the porch, feeding from bushes full of berries and greens. When I see them, I toss gigantic organic green apples to them. They like it here with me.
The Difference Between Happiness And Joy. {poetry}
Do I throw away the egg, saying:
No, I wanted a bird?
A bird of paradise
And not this round brown thing
Do I miss out on the big picture
Because I am in pursuit of perfection?
Let Us Dance, Naked. {poetry}
Let the mad onlookers point and stare, for they wish they were us,
encumbered and enlightened, by this strange yet glorious existence,
of human, spirit soul-speaking, ultimate.
Thank You For Not Calling.
Some wonder why I’m thanking someone who hurt me so deeply and forever changed my life. Buddha’s saying pretty much says it all, Holding on to anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die. Holding on to that rage and sadness was only hurting myself.
The Beauty Of The Darkness Of Light.
My lamplight may dim from time to time, yet is never out, and you must be wondering by now what the actual point of this article is. I must admit, I truly have no idea, seriously, but you are still reading, and my duty as a writer is to come up with something intelligent-sounding. So this is ...
A Letter To My Body.
I'm sorry for ever wishing that you looked different; crying because your thighs were too big, your ankles were too fat, your skin wasn't dark enough.
How To Love A Sagittarius.
We are intense in everything that we do, this includes brooding. We will scare you and you will not understand where we’ve disappeared to, what deep chasm within ourselves we’ve slipped into to find solitude and room to expand; where we find the silence to think. Love us there, in that dark ...