Buds of truth

We sometimes find ourselves
lost in a conundrum of dreams

We wander
we ponder, we peruse
and then we wonder why
and how and when, etc, etc
till our minds are so full
of bullshit we begin sprouting
young saplings of thought
all kinds of new ideas and ideologies
pychologies and philosophies
poems, songs, words and dreams.

Some kind of
implosion/explosion occurs
where we become trapped
in the void of unknowing
where the needle is stuck
and the world around us lets us go
and on and on we go
believing that if we reach
we can touch the sky.

Our feet are rooted in bullshit
our hearts, skin, blood and bone
get their nourishment from that gloop
our minds
strive to make sense of the loss
and here, our souls
they are the buds of truth
waiting for us to stop
and to believe
that the only way to reach the sky
is to know we are the sky.

An echo breathing

Magic arrives when it’s needed.

This message is ready for the few
for those souls
bereft of the beauty
we sometimes take for granted.

The beauty, of course, is not physical
but those things we feel
and emit
without and within

it is that echo
breathing, touching, vibrating
it is that echo.

Sometimes a sadness overshadows
a loneliness begins
a feeling of loss is found
and all we want is to escape
into ourselves
to close the curtains of our minds
and escape into the sorrows
of emptiness
where there is no light
no fire
no

but, where there is emptiness
there is of course, an echo.

It breathes with you and for you
for you are
that breathing echo
you are open to receive
those long searched for
alchemies of love.

Magic arrives when it’s needed
as love
because love
is already within us
within you now

breathing its echo.

Inhale, smile
and believe
in your beauty.