With each step
we write our lives
with quills dipped in rainwater
for as soon as it is written
it fades under the glare of happiness
or is washed away by storms of solitude
The mere act of dipping
is enough to send ripples along to the roots of Gaia’s smile
where she drinks in the questions of us mortal masterpieces
for as soon as it is written
our souls, our spirits, our hearts and our minds become
lost in the frustrations of being unable to comprehend
the reasons why we are given such beauty
only for it to be washed away
The act of being kind to the rains as they fall
brings its own rewards
for when we write our lives
with quills of love
we shall be given
the truth of how to live in the now moments
of how to flow over storm-crusted stepping stones of haste
and of how to write with rainwater
and know there are no answers except for those we create
When we write with rainwater
the sun shines
and the storms rage
as we breathe
know and feel
the beauty of existence
Another poem from before that seems to resonate with the way things are going nowadays.
From 2017 published in After the Rain.
There is someone for each of us, and maybe we should listen to the breeze, or be more open to those subtle moments, or maybe we should be brave and say “Hello”.
However we find love, our soulmate, our friend we must be able to allow them to find us too because if we let our souls go on that romance trek then we must also allow our feelings their freedom to show who we are and so let our colours merge to paint a tingle of chemistry.
Relax into the spirit of it all.
We are often unbalanced as we move through our lives and often there’s a noise, a vibration, or a gut feeling and these signs are sometimes missed, and I for one am guilty of not listening or not appreciating that maybe the universe is trying to say something, trying to let me know that perhaps I need to relax, to not overthink, and even to open myself to the mystery of my surroundings or to believe in the indomitable spirit of my soul.
Letting things go is good but troublesome in that there are so many distractions out there and so many diversions in here where thoughts run away in tangents of imagination.
So yes, letting things go is tough but once we start we’ll feel more freedom until that smile crinkles our soul into a rhapsody of realities
and then watch us fly!
There are many reasons as to why we are, or feel fragile and also why we fear, but sometimes we fear because we are fragile, timid, controlled or unable to come to terms with our weaknesses or our imaginings of a weakness within us because those who do control prefer it that we stay inside our shells and so we become more and more unable to break free of their bonds and our own bonds.
It is very difficult to stand up, very difficult to say what we think, very difficult to acknowledge that we are anything but their servant, very difficult to believe in the strength lying within and very difficult to be open to the reality of the idea that we are a person of note with our own tools of and for life.
The biggest and greatest tool we have is imagination.
We are stronger holding the belief of our courage in our hearts, in our souls; in our very bones.
You can awake the fragile and you can release the fear but yes it is difficult, very difficult.
Sometimes we don’t feel like smiling
yet when someone smiles at us we nearly always smile back.
At times we need help to get out of the rut we’re in
to burn away those clouds fogging our view
of not only what’s out there but what’s inside us
so with a little help and a little effort on our part
we can open up and reveal.
We sometimes find ourselves
lost in a conundrum of dreams
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
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
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.
This is why we do the things we do
it is the reason behind everything
or else what would be the point
what be the purpose of me being a poet
or of you being a poet
or of you/me
or of you being a singer
or a dancer
… spirit whisperer
life bringer …
it is the reason behind it all
even if it is something as mundane
as making a cup of tea
because passion is there
in the swirling.