The sunrise of your soul

the sunrise of your soul

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.

 

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.

Passion

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
a teacher
a thinker
creator
guide
… spirit whisperer
soul connector
heart lifter
life bringer …

Passion
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.

Open arms

A new decade is upon us
It is ready to open its arms
to those who welcome it
with love.

Give without expectations
Feel with honesty
Live without
Seek within
Be brave once in a while

And love
because without it
the clock stops here.

Drowning sorrow

What is it but a drowning sorrow
as the sky weeps its release

What is it but a chilling fear
as winds scour the earth

What is it but silent heartbeats
as snowflakes settle one by one, by one

What is it but a waiting
an apprehension of thought
a waiting of age
soon to be lit

It is this
this very moment
when upon looking up
a butterfly in winter
shivers in its beautiful strength

shivers, and is gone