Something happened today that made me very sad about humanity and I didn't even leave my room because I am sick. I know that this is meant to teach me something. I know that life is beautiful but sometimes things happen, conversations happen, life happens and it makes us doubt.
I am going to meditate. The answer will come.
And I'm back.
The answer was pretty much yin and yang, darkness and light, darling. It takes all of it to make up our world. All of us are on our own path, and maybe we can't understand other's paths sometimes, but that doesn't mean it's not all unfolding exactly as it's meant to.
As a friend once told me, all we can do...is do our best every day. Amen. Take the bad with as much grace as possible and suck every droplet out of the good in our lives. And shine that good on...
"We know truth, not only by the reason, but also by the heart.'" - Blaise Pascal
Thursday, November 21, 2013
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
Can't sleep, time to write poems.
Maggie likes to look at
the sun coming through the veiny leaves.
In her black work boots
she walks to the fields just to be.
And what may be her future
Or what may be her past, you say?
Well, how can one be sure of that
in her big black work boots, anyway?
High heels, maybe are better at pretending,
but she can't afford those.
Wouldn't feel right on her pinky toes.
'Sides, they might be tight and she doesn't like that.
She just likes this sun on the leaves
and the field brushing her shins.
She likes the question in her mouth
and the mystery of movement unknown.
_______________________________________
I dreamt of an agony hammer
aiming for me
again and
again
It was shiny and new
and I thought,
ought not to get it dirty
then
And I stopped it
but it was persistent
and it made me
flinch
And your calm breath
flowed at an even pace
you relaxed like the
darkness
I lie tight
Like a fishing reel
Wound to extremes and
tired.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
the sun coming through the veiny leaves.
In her black work boots
she walks to the fields just to be.
And what may be her future
Or what may be her past, you say?
Well, how can one be sure of that
in her big black work boots, anyway?
High heels, maybe are better at pretending,
but she can't afford those.
Wouldn't feel right on her pinky toes.
'Sides, they might be tight and she doesn't like that.
She just likes this sun on the leaves
and the field brushing her shins.
She likes the question in her mouth
and the mystery of movement unknown.
_______________________________________
I dreamt of an agony hammer
aiming for me
again and
again
It was shiny and new
and I thought,
ought not to get it dirty
then
And I stopped it
but it was persistent
and it made me
flinch
And your calm breath
flowed at an even pace
you relaxed like the
darkness
I lie tight
Like a fishing reel
Wound to extremes and
tired.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
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