Dienstag, 30. Mai 2017

Prodigal child





For a long time, I held to the knowledge
that I was a child of the earth, raised on rich soil
& air the flavor of dark bread
& though I heard about the sea, those stories
were whispered & strange & far from the ones
I knew.
Then, I met you, with eyes the color of storms,
or the emerald of deep waves when sunlight
moves across your face &
you are such a liquid invitation to the world
that I wonder now if the sea has called to me
my whole life & hearing nothing in return
sent you here to bring me home.

- storypeople -














Shared wirth Tuesday's Treasures,

Montag, 29. Mai 2017

A story told of long ago...





A story told of long ago
Before they knew
They were powerful.
Materials ruled the world
They sang sad songs
Of how they suffered.
With narrow eyes
And twice sold lies,
A victims view
From inside a cube
My Love

Then all at once
But one by one
They heard the call
A simple song saying
"When would you like
To leave it all behind?
You can quit all your sorrow
Lose track of time
And jump in- surrender
Wash it all away
Jump in and remember
This is our game
My Love"

And now the tables have turned
And the scales have evened
And the Illusions
Are breaking at the seams
And the patterns
And problems
And prisons of the past
Will be pushed under the table
Never meant to Last
And we grow in numbers
Day by day
A familiar smile
Upon your face
My Love.

Then all at once
But one by one
They Heard the call
A simple song,
Saying, “When would you like
to leave it all behind?
You can quit all your sorrow
Lose track of time
And jump In- surrender
Jump in- surrender
Wash it all away
Jump in and remember
This is our game
My Love”










*



Mittwoch, 24. Mai 2017

The way home





I’m not here
to keep you
from the places
you feel you need
to go, she said.
When you’re ready,
I’m here to remind
you of the way home.

- storypeople -













Montag, 22. Mai 2017

Magic





She tapped her finger
& nothing happened
& she thought
she had lost her magic,
but it had only changed
& it took her awhile
to figure it out.

- storypeople -




















Dienstag, 16. Mai 2017

Not a moment...





Not a moment goes by now where I don’t feel you in me,
humming a soft song of belonging & I never realized before
how much it would change how I walk & breathe & love
the world knowing I am home.

- storypeople -

















Sonntag, 14. Mai 2017

It's written in the wind





















In an old poem,
In the lining,
Of a double helix.
Only one switch,
Of the sequence,
Can remind if you wish.
Not from without,
But from within,
The spectrum turns to white.
True devotion,
If you listen,
Is written
In the wind.

Does desire
Rule the mental,
Turning truth into a fool?
No time in silence,
No time to listen,
No eyes to see it through?
Not from without,
But from within,
The spectrum turns to white.
True devotion,
If you listen,
Is written
In the wind.

Come up now,
To the mountain,
Where the air is sweet.
It is there that the wind sings,
The voice,
of wisdom speaks.
Not from without,
But from within,
The spectrum turns to white.
True devotion,
If you listen,
Is written
In the wind.